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THE    ADVENTURE    OF 
PRINCESS    SYLVIA 


The  Adventure  of 
Princess  Sylvia 


BY 
MRS.  C.  N.  WILLIAMSON 

CO-AUTHOR    OF    "  LIGHTNING   CONDUCTOR," 
"»ZT    IN    SILVER,"    ETC. 


DRAWING    BV 

MARY   LAP.    RUSSELL 


NEW  YORK. 

THE   METROPOLITAN    PRESS 
1909 


Copyright,  1909,  by 
THE   METROPOLITAN   PRESS 


Published,  September,  zqoq 


TO 

MY  AMERICAN  PRINCESS 

MRS.  CLARENCE  POSTLEY 


«  K>;  »  ,"  1*1  ••  *i 

L/J.-J-  <  ' 


THE    ADVENTURE 

OF 

PRINCESS    SYLVIA 

CHAPTER  I 

THE   ADVENTURE   BEGINS 


"Who  is  Sylvia?    What  is  she, 
That  all  our  swains  comend  her?" 


"I'M  dashed  if  I  do!"  said  the  Princess. 

"My  dear — if  anyone  should  hear  you!"  groaned 
the  Grand  Duchess.  "He  is  a  most  estimable  young 
man,  I  am  sure,  and  a  very  suitable  match." 

"Call  him  a  match,  if  you  like;  he's  certainly  a 
stick.  4  Anyway,  he's  not  a  match  for  me.  There's 
only  one  existing."  And  the  Princess's  eyes  were 
lifted  to  the  heavens,  as  if  the  being  at  whom  she 
hinted  were  placed  high  as  the  sun  that  shone  above 
her. 

The  Grand  Duchess  was  not  herself  "Hereditary." 
7 


8  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

Her  dear  lord  and  master  had  been  that,  which  was 
perhaps  the  reason  why  such  stateliness  as  she  had 
was  almost  ail  acquired.  She  dropped  it  sometimes, 
when  alone  with  her  unmarried,  unmanageable 
young  daughter;  and  to-day  (in  the  sweet  old-fash- 
ioned garden  of  the  house  at  Richmond,  lent  by 
Queen  Victoria)  was  one  of  these  occasions.  The 
Grand  Duchess  pouted,  and  looked  like  a  plump, 
sulky,  elderly  child,  as  she  inquired  what  the  Princess 
Sylvia  expected  in  the  way  of  a  matrimonial  prize. 

"What  do  I  expect?"  echoed  the  young  lady.  "I 
expect  an  Emperor.  In  fact,  the  Emperor." 

For  a  few  moments  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Eltz- 
burg-Neuwald  remained  dumb.  Then  she  inade- 
quately murmured,  "Dear  me !"  Yet  her  demeanour 
did  not  suggest  a  stricken  mind.  She  merely  looked 
surprised,  with  an  added  expression  that  might  sig- 
nify a  slow  mental  readjustment. 

"It  is  really  not  entirely  impossible,"  she  com- 
mented at  last.  "But — the  Emperor  of  Rhaetia  is 
a  very  great  man." 

"He  is  the  only  man,"  returned  the  Princess 
calmly.  "He  always  has  been.  He  is,  and  ever  will 
be.  He  is  the  Napoleon  of  his  generation,  without 
Napoleon's  meanness  or  brutality.  Although  he's 
not  an  Englishman,  even  you  admit  his  virtues." 

"Don't  speak  as  if  I  were  bristling  with  English' 
prejudices,"  scolded  the  Grand  Duchess.  "I  ceased 
to  be  English  when  I  married  your  father.  But  why 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  9 

did  you  never  mention  this — er — desire  of  yours  be- 
fore?" 

"I  am  far  too  maidenly,"  responded  Sylvia,  "to 
give  my  feeling  any  such  bold  name.  I  have  not 
ceased  to  be  English,  if  my  mother  has.  Indeed,  I 
give  my  feeling  no  name  at  all.  I  haven't  spoken 
of  it — if  there  be  an  'it'  to  speak  of — before,  simply 
because  really  I'm  not  crying  for  a  particular  toy  to 
play  with.  I'm  only  saying,  if  I  can't  have  that,  I 
won't  have  another  toy — a  poor,  unworthy  toy." 

"You  call  Prince  Henri  d'Ortens  a  'poor,  un- 
worthy toy'?" 

"Compared  with  the  Emperor  of  Rhaetia  and 
compared  with  me.  Look  at  me,  mother.  Would  I 
not  make  an  Empress?" 

Sylvia  laughed,  sprang  up  from  the  seat  that 
girdled  the  great  trunk  of  the  Lebanon  cedar,  and 
stood  with  her  bright  head  erect,  her  lips  still  smil- 
ing. 

The  August  sun  streamed  down  upon  the  girl 
and  bathed  her  in  its  glory.  Her  hair  was  a  net- 
work of  spun  gold,  under  its  radiance;  her  dark 
eyes  jewels;  her  skin  roses  and  snow;  her  simple 
white  muslin  gown  a  dazzling  robe  fit  for  a  fairy, 
rather  than  an  earthly,  princess. 

Yes,  she  would  make  an  Empress,  or  she  would 
make  a  goddess.  So  a  man  must  have  thought, 
even  if  he  had  not  dared  to  love  her.  And  so  thought 
her  mother. 


10  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

'The  dear  Queen  has  never  really  favoured  poor 
Henri,"  murmured  the  Grand  Duchess,  a  light  of 
introspection  in  her  eyes.  Already  the  French 
Prince,  with  pretensions  to  the  incomparable  hand 
of  Sylvia,  was  "poor  Henri."  "I  mean,  she  has 
never  favoured  him  as  a  match  for  you,  though  she 
intimated  to  me  yesterday  that  she  saw  no  insur- 
mountable objections — if  you  cared  for  each 
other"— 

"But  we  don't  At  least  I  don't.  Which  is  all 
that  signifies." 

"Pray  do  not  be  so  flippant.  As  for  Maximilian 
of  Rhaetia,  it  is  perhaps  natural  that  he  has  never 
been  thought  of  in  connection  with  you,  my  dear. 
He  is,  no  doubt,  the  most  sought-after  parti  in — 
well,  yes,  I  may  say  in  the  world.  Not  a  girl  with 
Royal  blood  in  her  veins  but  would  go  on  her  knees 
to  him" — 

"I  would  not,"  cried  Sylvia.  "I  might  worship 
him,  but  he  should  go  on  his  knees  to  me" 

"I  doubt  if  those  knees  will  ever  bend  to  man  or 
woman,"  said  the  Grand  Duchess.  "That,  however, 
is  a  mere  matter  of  speech.  I  am  serious  now,  and 
I  wish  you  to  be.  Though  you  are  a  very  beautiful 
girl,  my  child — there  is  no  disguising  that  fact  from 
you,  as  it  has  been  dinned  into  your  ears  since  you 
were  old  enough  to  understand — and  there  is  no 
better  blood  in  Europe  than  runs  in  your  veins ;  still, 
our  circumstances  are — er — unfortunately  such  that 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA:  11 

— that  we  are,  for  the  present,  slightly  handi- 
capped." 

"We're  beggars,"  said  Sylvia.  "But — Cophetua 
married  a  beggar  maid" ;  and  she  smiled. 

"Pray  don't  liken  yourself  to  any  such  persons, 
my  dear,"  objected  the  Grand  Duchess,  who,  on 
principle,  had  so  often  objected  to  Sylvia's  uncon- 
ventionalities  that  the  attitude  of  objection  had  be- 
come chronic.  "Your  father  is  dead.  The  Grand 
Duchy  of  Eltzburg-Neuwald  has  been  absorbed  by 
Prussia — for  a  price,  it  is  true ;  but  it  is  your  brother 
who  has  had  most  of  the  benefit  of  that  price.  And 
though  my  dear  husband  was  second  cousin  to  the 
Emperor  of  Germany,  who  loved  him  during  his  life 
as  an  elder  brother,  and  though  you  are  strictly 
within  the  pale  from  which  Maximilian  is  entitled 
to  select  a  wife,  one  must  admit  that  there  are  other 
girls  who,  from  a  worldly  point  of  view,  might  be 
considered  more  suitable." 

"I  wasn't  thinking  of  the  worldly  point  of  view," 
said  the  incorrigible  one,  with  unusual  softness.  She 
could  be  gentle  and  tender  enough  in  certain  moods ; 
but  she  was  used  to  taking  the  lead  with  her  mother. 

"People — men  or  women — with  Royal  blood  in 
their  veins  must  think  of  that  point  of  view,"  re- 
turned the  Grand  Duchess.  She  was  not  Royal, 
save  by  marriage,  though  her  long  since  dead  father, 
the  English  Duke  of  Northminster,  claimed  ancestry 
from  kings  and  had  married  a  near  relation  of  Queen 


12  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

Victoria.  But  he  had  been  one  of  the  richest  men 
in  the  world  at  the  time  of  his  daughter's  marriage ; 
and  the  exchequer  o-f  Eltzburg-Neuwald  had  sadly 
needed  replenishing.  It,  or  rather  its  representative, 
had  finally  swallowed  a  large  part  of  the  Duke  of 
Northminster's  private  fortune,  the  enormous  re- 
mainder having  vanished  in  a  great  financial  panic ; 
so  that  just  before  the  Hereditary  Grand  Duke  of 
Eltzburg-Neuwald  had  been  gathered  to  his  fathers, 
he  had  been  induced  to  make  terms  with  his  cousin, 
the  then  reigning  German  Emperor,  for  the  Grand 
Duchy.  Thus  deprived  of  his  inheritance,  the  only 
son,  Friedrich,  had  joyfully  accepted  an  offer  of 
adoption  as  Crown  Prince  from  the  childless  old 
King  of  Abruzzia. 

The  widowed  Grand  Duchess,  not  loving  the 
thought  of  a  German  residence,  when  bereft  of  her 
ancient  importance;  hating  her  son's  adopted  land 
of  Abruzzia,  which  she  considered  "half  savage" 
(yet  liking  still  less  the  alternative  of  a  wandering 
life  on  the  Continent,  or  a  home  with  the  uncle  who 
had  inherited  her  father's  title  and  estates),  had 
gratefully  caught  at  Queen  Victoria's  kindness. 
Ever  since  Sylvia  Victoria  Alexandra  Mary  Valerie 
Hildegarde,  her  daughter,  had  been  a  proud  little 
Princess  of  ten  years  old,  the  two  had  lived  in  the 
ancient,  rose-and-ivy-embowered  house  placed  at 
their  disposal  by  Her  Gracious  Majesty.  Sylvia  had 
been  educated  in  England ;  all  her  thoughts  and  ideas 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  13 

were  those  of  an  English  girl,  and  a  somewhat  "ad- 
vanced" English  girl.  Her  very  beauty  was  more 
English  than  German — the  delicately  chiselled  nose, 
the  short,  haughty  upper  lip,  the  frank  imperiousness 
of  the  hazel  eyes  under  the  black  sweep  of  lashes, 
and  dark,  soft  curve  of  brow.  She  was  twenty-one 
now,  and  vastly  tired  of  being  Royal,  for  already 
her  high  place  in  the  world  had  brought  her  more 
of  inconvenience  than  privilege. 

"I  don't  wish  the  Emperor  of  Rhaetia  to  want 
me  because  I  am  suitable,  but  because  I  am — irre- 
sistible," she  asseverated.  "I  want  love — love — or  I 
won't  marry  at  all." 

"But  that  is  nonsense,"  gravely  pronounced  the 
elder,  steeped  for  long  years  in  all  the  traditions  and 
conventionalities  of  Royalty.  "Women  in  our  posi- 
tion must  be  satisfied  with  the  hope  that  love  may 
come  after  marriage;  or,  if  not,  we  must  rest  con- 
tent in  doing  our  duty  in  that  state  of  life  to  which 
Heaven  has  been  pleased  to  call  us." 

"Bother  duty!"  remarked  Sylvia,  with  an  impa- 
tient disregard  for  those  elegancies  of  speech  to 
which  she  had  been  so  carefully  brought  up. 
"Thank  goodness,  nowadays  not  all  the  king's  horses 
and  all  the  king's  men  can  make  even  a  princess 
marry  anyone  against  her  will.  I  hate  the  everlast- 
ing cant  about  duty  in  marriage.  When  people  love 
each  other  they  are  kind  and  good  and  sweet  and 
virtuous,  because  it  is  a  pleasure,  not  because  it's 


1*  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

duty ;  and  that's  the  only  sort  of  loyalty  worth  hav- 
ing between  man  and  woman,  according  to  my  ideas. 
I  would  not  take  anything  less  from  a  man;  and  I 
should  despise  him  if  he  were  ready  to  accept  less 
from  me." 

"You  are  most  impious,  Sylvia;  you  ought  to 
have  been  born  a  bourg  oise,"  said  her  mother.  But 
at  this  moment,  when  the  clash  of  tongues,  as  opin- 
ion stuck  upon  opinion,  was  imminent,  there  oc- 
curred a  happy  diversion  in  the  arrival  of  a  servant 
with  letters. 

Sylvia,  who  was  a  neglectful  correspondent,  had 
nothing ;  but  two  or  three  bulky  envelopes  had  come 
for  the  Grand  Duchess,  and  eagerly  she  broke  the 
seal  of  one  which  bore  the  handwriting  of  her  son 
Friedrich,  now  Crown  Prince  of  Abruzzia. 

"Open  the  others  for  me,  dear,  while  I  see  what 
Fritz  has  to  say,"  she  requested.  And  Sylvia 
leisurely  obeyed. 

There  was  a  note  from  an  old  friend  of  whom 
she  was  fond;  and  she  had  just  begun  to  be  inter- 
ested in  the  first  paragraph,  when  an  ejaculation 
from  her  mother  caused  a  quick  lifting  of  her  lashes. 

The  Grand  Duchess  was  staring  at  the  scrawled 
pages,  held  close  to  her  near-sighted  eyes,  while  a 
bright  flush  troubled  the  surface  of  her  usually  se- 
rene countenance. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  exclaimed  Sylvia,  "Any- 
thing wrong  with  Fritz?" 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  15 

"No — no — nothing-  in  the  least  wrong1,"  mur- 
mured the  Grand  Duchess  absent-mindedly.  "Far 
from  it,  indeed ;  but  really — this  is  the  most  extraor- 
dinary coincidence.  It  seems  almost  too  strange 
that  it  should  come  at  such  a  moment.  Yet  I  sup- 
pose I  am  not  dreaming?"  She  peered  questioningly 
at  Sylvia;  for  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  Grand 
Duchess  did  sometimes  sleep,  perchance  even  dream, 
in  the  warm  seclusion  of  the  old  riverside  garden. 

"Life  is  a  dream!"  hummed  the  Princess.  "But 
you  look  awake,  dear ;  and  I've  never  known  you  to 
talk  whole  sentences  in  your  sleep.  What  has  Fritz 
been  doing?" 

"It  is  not  Fritz ;  it's  your  Emperor,"  returned  her 
mother. 

It  was  now  Sylvia's  turn  to  flush.  This,  then, 
was  the  "coincidence" !  She  wished,  yet  vaguely 
dreaded,  to  ask  for  the  purport  of  the  news.  Of 
course  it  was  ridiculous  to  blush,  because  it  was 
ridiculous  to  care.  But  the  fact  remained  that  she 
did  blush  and  that  she  did  care. 

Princess  Sylvia  had  never  seen  Maximilian  of 
Rhaetia;  nevertheless,  as  she  had  half  laughingly, 
half  earnestly  declared,  he  had  been  for  her  the  one 
real  man  in  a  world  of  shadow  men,  since  childish 
days.  In  the  little  room  grandiloquently  called  her 
"study"  (a  room  sacred  to  herself  alone,  whose  se- 
crets even  her  mother  did  not  share)  were  preserved 
many  souvenirs  of  the  Emperor,  which  had  been  ac- 


16  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

cumulating  for  years.  There  were  paragraphs  cut 
from  newspapers,  setting  forth  his  great  prowess  as 
a  soldier,  hunter,  and  mountaineer,  with  dramatic 
anecdotes  of  his  haughty  courage  when  in  danger. 
There  were  portraits  of  Maximilian,  beginning  from 
an  early  age,  up  to  the  present,  when  he  was  shown 
as  a  tall,  stern-eyed,  passionate-lipped,  aggressive- 
chinned  young  man  of  thirty.  There  were  copies 
of  pictures  he  had  painted,  plays  he  had  written, 
music  he  had  composed,  fierce  and  warlike  speeches 
he  had  delivered ;  accounts  of  improvements  in  guns 
and  gunpowder  invented  by  him;  with  numerous 
other  records  of  his  accomplishments  and  achieve- 
ments ;  for  the  Emperor  of  Rhaetia  was,  in  his  own 
mind,  and  that  of  his  people,  the  one  shining  excep- 
tion to  the  rule  that  a  "Jack  of  all  trades  can  be  mas- 
ter of  none."  He  was  master  of  all,  or  at  least  all 
he  had  ever  attempted — their  name  being  legion — 
and  Sylvia  loved  him  because  it  was  so.  The  locked 
drawers  of  her  desk  were  hallowed  by  the  records 
of  her  hero  which  they  hid. 

Now,  the  thought  that  flashed  into  her  mind  was 
that  Fritz's  letter  might  perhaps  contain  a  gossiping 
account  of  the  Emperor's  engagement  to  one  of  those 
other  Royal  girls,  who,  as  the  Grand  Duchess  had 
justly  observed,  were  more  suitable  to  match  him 
than  poor,  pretty  little  Princess  Sylvia  of  Eltzburg- 
Neuwald.  Maximilian  was  thirty  years  old  (Sylvia 
knew  his  age  to  the  day,  almost  to  the  hour) ;  there- 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  17 

fore  it  was  remarkable  that  he  had  not  long  ago 
listened  to  the  advice  of  his  Chancellor  and  chosen 
a  wife  worthy  to  be  Empress  of  Rhaetia  and  the 
mother  of  an  heir. 

"Guess  what  Fritz  writes  of  him,"  said  the  Grand 
Duchess,  controlling  visible  emotion. 

Sylvia  also  controlled  hers,  crushing  it  down  with 
a  relentless  hand,  and  telling  herself  that  what  she 
felt  was  at  its  worst  but  wounded  vanity. 

"He's  going  to  be  married?"  she  quietly  sug- 
gested. 

"That  depends."  Her  mother  laughed  nervously, 
with  a  stifled  and  mysterious  delight.  "Guess  again 
— but  no,  I  won't  tease  you.  After  this  letter,  com- 
ing as  it  has  in  the  midst  of  our  conversation,  I  shall 
be  a  firm  believer  in  telepathy.  It  is  too  wonderful. 
He  may  be  going  to  be  married ;  he  may  not.  For, 
my  dear,  dear  child,  he — wants  to  marry  you." 

Sylvia  sprang  to  her  feet.  Perhaps  such  exhibi- 
tion of  feeling  on  the  part  of  a  Royal  maiden  decor- 
ously sued  (by  proxy)  for  her  hand,  was  hardly 
correct.  But  Sylvia  thought  of  no  such  considera- 
tions. She  did  not  even  know  that  she  had  left  her 
chair.  For  a  moment  a  delicate  blue  haze  floated 
between  her  eyes  and  the  Grand  Duchess's  pleased, 
plump  face. 

"He — wants — to— marry — me  ?"  she  echoed 
dazedly. 

"Yes,  you,  my  darling.     Providence  must  have 


18  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

drawn  your  inclination  toward  him.  It  is  really  a 
romance.  Some  day,  no  doubt,  it  will  be  told  to  the 
world  in  history." 

Sylvia  did  not  hear.  She  stood  quite  still,  her 
hands  clasped  before  her,  the  letter  she  had  been 
reading  on  the  grass  at  her  feet. 

"Did  he — the  Emperor — tell  this  to  Fritz  and  ask 
him  to  write  to  you?"  she  questioned. 

"Not — not  exactly  that,  dear,"  admitted  the 
Grand  Duchess,  her  face  changing;  for  Sylvia  was 
so  exacting  and  held  such  peculiar  ideas,  that  it  was 
sometimes  rather  difficult  to  know  how  she  would 
receive  the  most  ordinary  announcements. 

The  rapt  expression  faded  from  Sylvia's  features, 
like  the  passing  of  dawn. 

"Not — exactly  that?"  she  repeated.  "Then  what 
—how?" 

"Perhaps — though  it  is  not  strictly  the  correct 
thing — you  had  better  read  Fritz's  letter?" 

Sylvia  put  her  hands  behind  her  back  with  a  child- 
like gesture.  "I — somehow  I  don't  want  to.  Please 
tell  me,"  she  said  simply. 

"Well,  then,  you  know  what  an  admiration  Fritz 
has  felt  for  Count  von  Markstein,  the  Rhaetian 
Chancellor,  ever  since  the  visit  the  Chancellor  paid 
to  Abruzzia?  They  have  kept  up  a  correspondence 
from  time  to  time,  and  the  sort  of  friendship  which 
often  exists  between  an  old  man  with  a  great  career 
behind  him  and  a  young  man  with  his  still  to  come. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  19 

Now  it  seems  (in  the  quite  informal  manner  by 
which  such  affairs  are  generally  begun)  that  Count 
von  Markstein  has  written  confidentially  to  Fritz, 
as  our  only  near  male  relative,  to  ask  how  he  would 
regard  an  alliance  between  you  and  Maximilian,  or 
if  we  have  already  disposed  of  your  hand.  The  Em- 
peror is  inclined  to  listen  to  advice  at  last ;  and  you, 
as  a  Protestant  Princess" — 

"Yes,  a  Protestant  Princess  more  than  ever,  for 
I  protest  against  being  approached  upon  such 
terms!"  Sylvia  exclaimed. 

The  countenance  of  the  Grand  Duchess  became 
overcast.  There  were  certain  drawbacks  in  having 
a  spoiled  beauty  for  a  daughter.  "Sylvia,"  she 
ejaculated,  "surely  you  don't  mean — surely  you  are 
not  going  to  throw  over  such  a  marvelous  chance  as 
this — a  chance  that  a  queen's  daughter  might 
gladly  accept — because  of  a  sentimental,  schoolgirl 
scruple?" 

"Why  do  you  suppose  the  Emperor — or  his  Chan- 
cellor— thinks  of  anyone  so  insignificant  for  such  a 
high  place,  when  there  are  others  far  more  eligible?" 
asked  Sylvia,  with  reflective  dryness,  answering  one 
question  by  another. 

"Fritz  goes  on  to  mention  various  good  reasons 
in  his  letter,  if  you  would  only  let  me  tell  you,  and 
would  take  them  sensibly,"  said  the  much-enduring 
elder  woman. 


20  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"I  should  like  to  hear  them,  at  all  events,"  Sylvia 
judicially  replied. 

"Well,  as  I  was  beginning-  to  explain,  the  Empress 
of  Rhaetia  must  be  a  Protestant.  At  present,  as 
Fritz  says,  there  are  not  many  eligible  young  Prot- 
estant Princesses  who  would  be  acceptable  to  the 
Rhaetian  people  and  add  to  the  Emperor's  popular- 
ity. Then,  as  you  know,  Maximilian  is  a  man  who 
dominates  those  around  him;  he  wishes  to  marry  a 
young  girl  who,  though  of  Royal  birth,  could  not 
by  any  possibility  have  been  heiress  to  a  throne  of 
her  own.  I  fancy  he  would  choose  to  mould  his  wife 
and  to  take  a  girl  without  too  many  important  or 
importunate  relatives;  for  he  is  not  one  who  would 
dream  of  adding  to  his  own  greatness  by  that  of  a 
wife.  Besides,  Maximilian  is  partial  to  England,  and 
the  fact  that  you  have  had  an  English  education 
would  be  favourably  rather  than  unfavourably  re- 
garded both  by  him  and  Count  von  Markstein — at 
least,  so  Fritz  believes.  And  thought  I  have  never 
allowed  you,  since  you  were  a  child?  to'  have  your 
photograph  taken,  and  you  have  lived  in  such  seclu- 
sion that  you  have  been  little  seen,  still  the  rumour 
has  somehow  reached  Maximilian's  ears  that  you 
are — not  ugly.  He  has  been  heard  more  than  once 
to  remark  that  whatever  the  future  Empress  of 
Rhaetia  might  be,  she  would  not  be  a  plain  woman ; 
therefore,  altogether" — 

"Therefore,  altogether,  my  references  appear  to 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  21 

be  satisfactory,  and  at  a  pinch  I  might  do  for  the 
place,"  broke  in  Sylvia,  with  hot  impatience.  "Oh, 
mother,  I  will  marry  Maximilian,  or  I  will  marry 
no  man ;  but  I  won't  be  married  to  him  in  Count  von 
Markstein's  hateful  cut-and-dried  way." 

"It's  the  Emperor's  way,  as  well  as  Markstein's." 

"Then  for  once  in  his  big,  grand,  obstinate  life, 
he  shall  learn  that  there  are  other  wills  than  his  in 
the  world ;  and  that  there  is  one  woman  who  won't 
play  Griselda  even  for  the  sake  of  being  his  Em- 
press." 

The  Grand  Duchess  looked  worried  (as  well 
she  might,  had  she  been  blessed  or  banned  with  a 
prophetic  soul  to  whisper  of  the  future).  "You 
look  so  odd  when  you  say  that,"  she  observed;  "as  if 
you  had — some  kind  of  plan." 

"And  so  I  have,"  confessed  Sylvia.  "It  came  to 
me  suddenly — as  all  inspirations  come.  It's  in  em- 
bryo yet;  but  I  shall  fill  in  the  details."  She  came 
close  to  her  mother,  and  knelt  down  on  the  grass  at 
her  feet,  looking  up  with  a  light  in  her  eyes  that  no 
man,  and  few  women,  could  have  resisted. 

There  was  nobody  save  the  Grand  Duchess  and 
the  late  roses  to  see  how  a  young  Princess  threw  her 
mantle  of  dignity  to  the  winds;  for  the  two  ladies 
did  not  keep  Royal  state  and  a  Royal  retinue  in  the 
quaint  old  house  at  Richmond;  and  the  arbour  hid 
their  confidence  from  intrusive  eyes  or  ears. 


23  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"You  do  love  me,  don't  you,  dear?"  cooed  Sylvia, 
softly  as  a  dove. 

"You  know  I  do,  my  daughter,  thougfi  I  don't 
pretend  to  understand  you." 

"People  grow  dull  when  we  understand  them  too 
well.  It's  like  solving  a  puzzle ;  there's  no  more  fun 
in  it  when  it's  finished.  But  you  do  wish  me  to  be 
happy  ?" 

"More  than  anything  else — except,  of  course, 
Fritz"— 

"Fritz  is  a  man  and  can  take  care  of  himself.  7 
must  only  do  the  best  I  can.  And  there's  something 
I  want  so  much,  and  it  would  give  me  a  heaven  on 
earth,  all  my  own,  if  I  could  win  it.  Maximilian's 
love,  quite  for  myself,  as  a  girl,  not  a  proper,  'Prot- 
estant Princess.'  I  think  I  see  how  I  can  win  it,  too, 
if  you  will  only  help  me." 

"I'll  do  my  best,"  cried  the  Grand  Duchess,  car- 
ried out  of  herself  into  unwonted  impulsiveness  by 
kisses  soft  and  sweet  as  falling  rose-leaves.  "Only 
I  don't  see  what  I  can  do." 

"But  /  see;  and  you  must  promise  to  see  with  my 
eyes." 

"They  are  very  bright  ones!"  laughed  her 
mother. 

Princess  Sylvia  put  both  arms  round  the  plump 
waist,  and  gave  the  Grand  Duchess  a  hug.  Then 
she  laughed — an  odd,  musical,  half- frightened  laugh. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  23 

"Mother,  something  wonderful  is  going  to  happen 
to  you  and  me,"  she  exclaimed.  "We're  going  to 
have  an  adventure." 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  INADVERTENCE  OF  FRAU  JOHANN 

TWILIGHT  fell  late  in  the  tiny  Rhaetian  village  of 
Heiligengelt.  So  high  on  the  mountain-side  were  set 
the  few  brown  chalets,  the  simple  inn,  and  the  church 
with  its  Oriental  spire,  that  they  caught  the  last  red 
rays  of  sunlight,  to  hold  them  flashing  on  burnished 
copper  tiles  and  small  bright  window-panes  long 
after  the  valley  below  slept  in  the  shadows  of  night. 
One  September  evening  two  carriages  toiled  up 
the  steep  winding  road  that  led  to  the  highest  hamlet 
of  the  Rhaetian  Alps,  and  a  girl  walking  by  the 
side  of  the  foremost  driver  (minded,  as  he  was,  to 
save  the  tired  horses)  looked  up  to  see  Heiligengelt 
glittering  like  a  necklet  of  jewels  on  the  brown 
throat  of  the  mountain.  Each  window  was  a  sepa- 
rate ruby  set  in  gold;  the  copper  bulb  that  topped 
the  church  steeple  was  a  burning  carbuncle;  while 
above  the  flashing  band  of  gems  towered  the  rocky 
face  of  the  mountain,  its  steadfast  features  carved 
in  stone,  its  brow  capped  with  snow  that  caught  the 

*4 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  25 

glow  of  sunset,  or  lay  in  blue-white  seams  along  the 
wrinkles  of  its  forehead. 

The  driver  had  assured  the  young  English  lady 
that  she  might  remain  in  the  carriage;  her  weight 
would  be  as  nothing  to  the  horses,  who  were  used 
to  carrying  far  heavier  loads  than  this  of  to-day  up 
the  mountain  road  to  Heiligengelt  in  the  summer 
season,  when  many  tourists  came.  But  she  had  in- 
sisted on  walking,  and  the  brown-faced  fellow  with 
the  green  hat  and  curly  cock-feather  liked  her  the 
better  for  her  persistence.  She  was  plainly  dressed, 
and  not  half  as  grand  in  her  appearance  as  some  of 
the  ladies  who  went  up  with  him  in  July  and  Au- 
gust to  visit  little  Heiligengelt;  but,  apart  from  her 
beauty  (which  his  eye  was  not  slow  to  see),  there 
was  something  else  that  captured  both  admiration 
and  respect.  Perhaps,  for  one  thing,  her  knowledge 
of  Rhaetian — counted  by  other  countries  a  difficult 
language,  though  bearing  to  Germaa  a  cousinship 
closer  than  that  which  Romance  bears  to  Italian — 
did  much  to  warm  the  Rhaetian's  heart.  At  all 
events,  without  stopping  to  analyse  his  feeling,  or 
grope  for  its  cause,  the  driver  of  the  first  carriage 
found  himself  bestowing  voluble  confidences  upon 
the  charming  foreigner. 

He  told  her  of  his  life:  how  he  had  not  always 
lived  in  the  valley  and  driven  horses  for  a  living. 
Before  he  took  a  wife,  and  had  a  young  family  to 
rear,  he  had  made  his  home  in  Heiligengelt,  which 


26  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

was  his  native  village.  There  his  old  mother  still 
lived  and  kept  the  inn.  He  was  glad  that  the  ladies 
meant  to  stop  with  her  for  a  few  days ;  after  the  sea- 
son was  over,  and  the  strangers  had  all  been  driven 
away  by  the  cold  and  early  flurries  of  snow,  the  poor 
mother  grew  weary  of  idleness  and  longed  for  the 
sight  of  new  faces.  There  were  not  many  neigh- 
bours in  Heiligengelt.  She  would  be  pleased  to  see 
the  English  ladies,  and  would  do  her  best  to  make 
them  comfortable,  though  it  was  not  often  that 
strangers  came  so  late  in  the  year.  The  mother 
would  be  surprised  as  well  as  rejoiced  at  the  sight 
of  the  Herrschaft,  since  it  seemed  that  they  had  not 
written  in  advance.  Still,  they  need  not  fear  that  her 
surprise  would  interfere  with  their  welfare.  Those 
who  knew  Frau  Johann  knew  that  her  floors  ever 
shone  like  wax,  that  her  cupboard  was  never  empty, 
that  her  linen  was  aired  and  scented  like  the  new- 
mown  hay.  It  was  but  justice  to  say  this,  although 
she  was  his  mother.  And  besides,  she  had  need  al- 
ways to  be  in  readiness  for  distinguished  guests,  be- 
cause— but  the  eloquent  tongue  of  Alois  Johann  was 
suddenly  silenced  like  the  clapper  of  a  bell  which  the 
ringer  has  ceased  to  pull,  and  his  sunburnt  face  grew 
sheepish. 

"Because  of  what?"  urged  his  companion. 

Alois  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  laughed.  "I 
was  going  to  say  a  thing  which  I  had  no  business  to 
say,"  he  confessed.  "We  men  sneer  at  our  women 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  27 

because  they  keep  no  secrets,  yet  sometimes  we  find 
ourselves  near  to  the  same  foolishness.  I  must  take 
care,  and  beg  that  the  noble  lady  will  not  embarrass 
me  with  questions." 

The  noble  lady  obediently  held  her  tongue,  yet 
there  was  a  twinkle  under  her  long,  downcast  lashes, 
which  might  in  turn  have  aroused  Alois'  curiosity  if 
he  had  seen. 

Slowly  they  climbed  on;  the  two  carriages,  withi 
the  noble  lady's  noble  mother,  the  middle-aged  com- 
panion, the  French  maid,  and  the  modest  supply  of 
luggage,  toiling  up  behind. 

At  last  they  reached  the  inn  with  the  steeply 
pointed  roof  of  grey  shingles  and  the  big  picture  of 
Heiligengelt's  patron  saint  portrayed  in  bright  col- 
ours on  the  white  house-wall.  A  characteristic  call 
from  Alois,  sent  forth  before  the  highest  plateau 
was  reached,  brought  an  apple-cheeked  old  dame  to 
the  front  door ;  and  it  was  the  youngest  of  the  trav- 
ellers who  asked,  with  a  pleasant  greeting,  for  the 
best  suite  of  rooms  that  Frau  Johann  could  provide. 

The  Rhaetian  woman  and  her  son  exchanged  a 
glance  which  mirrored  mystery.  Then  Frau  Johann 
regretted  that  her  best  rooms  were  already  occupied 
by  four  gentlemen  who  came  each  year  at  this  season 
to  spend  a  week  or  ten  days.  They  had  the  bedcham- 
bers commanding  the  finest  view,  and  the  only  pri- 
vate sitting-room  in  the  house ;  but  there  were  other 
good  rooms  in  plenty,  and  one  of  these  could  easily 


28  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

be  transformed  into  a  sitting-room,  if  the  ladies  de- 
sired. 

An  hour  later,  when  the  new-comers,  mother, 
daughter  and  companion,  sat  down  to  a  hot  supper 
in  a  room  rendered  hastily  habitable  for  dining,  the 
youngest  of  the  three  remarked  to  Frau  Johann  upon 
the  peaceful  stillness  of  her  house. 

"One  would  think  that  there  was  not  a  soul  in  the 
place  save  ourselves,"  she  said.  "Yet  we  are  not 
your  only  guests,  we  know." 

"The  gentlemen  who  are  stopping  with  me  are 
away  all  day  on  the  mountains,"  explained  Frau 
Johann.  "It  is  now  the  season  for  chamois-hunting, 
and  it  is  for  that  sport  and  also  some  good  climbing, 
only  to  be  done  by  experts,  that  they  come  to  me. 
To-night  they  do  not  return,  but  stop  at — at  a  hut 
they  have  near  the  top  of  the  Weisshorn,  to  begin 
work  in  the  morning  earlier  than  would  be  possible 
if  they  slept  in  the  village.  That,  indeed,  is  their 
constant  custom." 

"Then  they  are  rather  selfish  to  keep  your  only 
sitting-room,  since  they  can  make  but  little  use  of 
it,"  said  the  girl.  "And  so  I  should  like  to  hint,  if 
I  happened  to  meet  them." 

"May  Heaven  forbid!"  hastily  ejaculated  Frau 
Johann,  almost  dropping  the  plate  of  eggs  with 
minced  veal  which  she  was  carrying. 

"Why  not,  then?"  laughed  the  young  English 
lady,  who  was  the  most  beautiful  creature  the  Rhae- 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  29 

tian  woman  had  looked  upon  for  many  a  long  day. 
"Are  these  gentleman-hunters  persons  of  great  im- 
portance, that  they  must  not  be  told  the  truth  about 
themselves  by  those  they  have  inconvenienced  in 
their  thoughtlessness  ?" 

For  an  instant  Frau  Johann  was  dumb,  as  one  who 
searches  for  an  answer  not  easily  to  be  found.  "The 
gentlemen  are  good  patrons  of  mine ;  therefore  they 
are  important  to  me,  gracious  Fraulein,"  she  at  last 
replied.  "I  should  not  like  their  feelings  to  be  hurt." 

"I  was  only  joking,"  the  girl  assured  her.  "We 
are  satisfied  with  this  room,  which  you  have  made 
so  pleasant  for  us.  All  I  care  for  is  that  the  moun- 
tains be  not  private.  I  may  climb  as  much  as  I 
like — I  and  my  friend,  Miss  Collinson,  who  is  a  dar- 
ing mountaineer"  (with  this,  she  cast  a  glance  at 
the  companion,  who  visibly  started  in  response,  per- 
haps at  the  revelation  of  her  skill)  ;  "for  I  suppose 
that  your  other  guests  have  not  engaged  the  whole 
Weisshorn  for  their  own  ?" 

The  landlady's  smile  returned.  "No,  gracious 
Fraulein;  you  are  free  to  wander  as  you  will;  but 
take  care  that  you  do  not  attempt  feats  of  too  great 
difficulty,  and  take  care  also  that  you  are  not  mis- 
taken for  a  chamois,  to  be  shot." 

"Even  our  prowess  as  climbers  will  hardly  entitle 
us  to  such  a  distinction,"  replied  the  youngest  of  the 
ladies,  who  seemed  so  much  more  inclined  towards 
general  conversation  than  the  others.  "But  wake  us 


30  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

/ 

early  to-morrow.     We  should  like  to  Have  tirealc- 
fasted  and  be  out  by  half-past  seven." 
•     "And  will  you  take  a  guide,  gracious  Fraulein? 
I  can  engage  a  good  one  if  you  wish  to  try  some  of 
the  famous  climbs." 

"Thank  you,  no,"  said  the  girl.  "We  have  our 
Baedeker,  and  will  only  attempt  such  places  as  he 
pronounces  safe  for  amateurs.  There's  an  easy  way 
to  the  top,  we've  read,  and  if  to-morrow  be  fine,  we 
may  undertake  it.  But  what  an  excellent  engraving 
you  have  over  the  fireplace,  with  the  chamois'  horns 
above  it!  Isn't  that  a  portrait  of  your  Emperor?" 

Frau  Johann's  eyes  darted  to  the  picture.  "Ach! 
I  meant  to  have  had  it  carried  away,"  she  muttered. 

The  girl  caught  the  words.  "Why  should  it  be 
carried  away?  Don't  you  love  the  Emperor,  that 
you  would  have  his  face  put  out  of  sight?" 

"Not  love  unser  Max?"  The  exclamation  came 
quick  and  indignant.  "We  worship  him,  gracious 
Fraulein ;  we  would  die  for  him  any  day,  and  think 
ourselves  blessed  with  the  chance.  Oh,  I  would  not 
let  you  go  back  to  your  own  country  with  the 
thought  that  we  do  not  love  the  best  Kaiser  a  coun- 
try ever  had.  As  for  the  portrait,  I  did  not  know  I 
spoke  aloud;  that  sometimes  happens  to  me,  since  I 
grow  deaf  and  old.  But  I  only  wished  it  put  away 
because  it  is  so  poor,  it  does  unser  Max  (that  is 
what  he  is  pleased  to  have  us  call  him)  no  justice. 
You — you  would  not  recognize  him  from  that  pic- 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  3T 

ture.    THe  Kaiser  is  a  very  different-looking1  man." 

With  this,  Frau  Johann  went  out  to  fetch  another 
dish,  which  was  ready  in  the  kitchen ;  to  cool  her  hot 
face,  and  to  scold  herself  for  an  old  dummkopf,  all 
the  way  downstairs. 

In  the  bedchamber  which  had  so  recently  been 
turned  into  a  dining-drawing-room,  the  young  lady 
took  advantage  of  the  landlady's  temporary  absence 
to  indulge  in  long-stifled  laughter. 

"Poor,  transparent  old  dear!"  she  exclaimed. 
"I'm  sure  she  doesn't  dream  that  one  reads  her  like 
a  book.  She  is  in  a  sad  fright  now,  lest  we  should 
recognise  'unser  Max'  from  his  portrait,  and  spoil 
his  precious  incognito." 

"Then  you  think  that  one  of  the  gentlemen  really 
is" —  began  the  Grand  Duchess. 

"I  am  sure  that  he  is/'  finished  Princess  Sylvia. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  YOUNG  MAN  WITH  THE  BARE  KNEES. 

"THIS  is  perfectly  awful!"  groaned  the  unfortunate 
lady  who  passed  under  the  name  of  Miss  Collinson. 

"Perfectly  splendid!"  corrected  her  companion. 

The  elder  lady  pressed  Baedeker  convulsively  to 
her  bosom,  and  sat  down.  "I  shall  have  to  stop 
here,"  she  gasped,  "all  the  rest  of  my  life,  and  have 
my  meals  and  night  things  sent  up  to  me.  I'm  very 
sorry;  but  I  shall  never  move  again." 

"Don't  be  absurd,  dear;  we're  absolutely  safe," 
said  Sylvia.  "I  may  be  a  selfish  little  wretch,  but  I 
wouldn't  for  worlds  have  brought  you  into  danger. 
You've  come  so  far;  surely  you  can  come  a  little 
farther?  Baedeker  says  you  can.  In  ten  minutes 
you'll  be  at  the  top." 

"You  might  as  well  say  I'll  be  in  my  grave;  it 
amounts  to  much  the  same  thing,"  retorted  Miss  Col- 
linson, who  was  really  Miss  Jane  M'Pherson,  and 
had  been  Sylvia's  governess.  "I  can't  look  down; 
I  can't  look  up,  because  I  keep  thinking  of  what's  be- 

32 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  55 

hind  me.  After  I  get  my  breath  and  get  used  to 
things,  I  may  be  comparatively  comfortable  here; 
but  as  to  stirring,  there's  no  use  thinking  of  it." 

"You'd  make  an  ideal  hermitess,"  said  Sylvia. 
"You've  the  very  features  for  that  profession; 
austere,  yet  benevolent.  But  you're  not  really  afraid 
now?" 

"Not  sitting  down,"  admitted  Miss  MTherson, 
gradually  regaining  her  accustomed  calm. 

"Do  you  think  you'd  be  afraid,  and  lose  your 
head  or  anything,  if  I  just  strolled  on  to  the  top  for 
the  view,  and  came  back  to  you  in  about  half  an 
hour?" 

"No— o,"  said  the  governess.  "I  may  as  well 
accustom  myself  to  loneliness,  since  I  am  obliged  to 
spend  my  remaining  years  on  this  spot.  But  I'm 
not  at  all  sure  that  the  Grand  Duchess  would 
approve" — 

"You  mean  Lady  de  Courcy.  She  wouldn't  mind. 
She  knows  I  have  a  steady  head,  and — physically — 
a  good  heart.  Besides,  I  shall  have  only  myself  to 
look  after;  and  one  doesn't  need  a  chaperon  for  a 
morning  call  on  a  mountain  view." 

"I'm  not  so  certain  about  this  mountain  view !" 

"You're  very  subtle.  But  I  really  haven't  come 
out  to  look  for  him  this  morning.  There's  plenty  of 
time  for  that  by  and  by." 

"Dear  Princess,  don't  speak  as  if  you  could  pos- 
sibly do  such  a  thing  at  any  time." 


34  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"Miss  de  Courcy,  please!  Why  do  you  suppose 
we  are  all  in  das  Land  ini  Gebirge,  if  not  to  pursue 
a  certain  imperial  eagle  to  his  eyrie,  where  he  mas- 
querades as  a  common  bird?" 

"Ah,  my  dear,  don't  demean  yourself,  even  to  me, 
who  know  you  so  well.  You  are  here  not  to  pursue, 
but  to  give  an  Emperor  who  wants  a  Princess  for 
his  consort  a  chance  to  fall  in  love  with  herself." 

"If  he  will!  But  what  do  Mary  de  Courcy  and 
Jane  Collinson  know  about  the  affairs  of  emperors 
and  princesses  ?  Au  revoir,  dear  friend.  Presently, 
if  you  find  courage  to  look,  you  will  see  me  waving 
a  handkerchief-flag  at  the  top." 

Sylvia  took  up  her  alpenstock  and  pushed  on. 
There  was  a  route  to  the  highest  peak  of  the  Weiss- 
horn  only  to  be  attacked  by  experienced  climbers; 
but  the  path  along  which  she  and  Miss  M'Pherson 
had  set  out  from  Heiligengelt  four  hours  ago  was 
merely  tedious,  never  dangerous.  Sylvia  knew  that 
her  governess  was  safe  and  not  half  as  much  fright- 
ened by  the  unaccustomed  height  as  she  pretended. 

They  had  started  at  half-past  seven,  just  as  a  Sep- 
tember sun  was  beginning  to  draw  the  night  chill 
out  of  the  keen  mountain  air;  and  it  was  now  nearly 
twelve.  Sylvia  was  hungry. 

In  Wandeck,  the  second  largest  town  of  Rhaetia, 
she  had  bought  rucksacks  for  herself  and  Miss 
M'Pherson;  and  to-day  these  acquisitions  were  be- 
ing tested  for  the  first  time.  Each  bag  stored  an 


PRINCESS  SYLVIS  35 

abundant  luncheon  for  its  bearer;  while  on  top,  se- 
cured by  straps  passed  across  the  shoulders,  reposed 
a  wrap  to  be  used  in  rain  or  rest  after  violent  exer- 
cise. Sylvia's  rucksack  grew  heavy  as  she  ascended, 
though  at  first  its  weight  had  seemed  insignificant; 
and  spying  at  a  distance  a  green  plateau  on  the 
mountain-side,  it  occurred  to  her  that  it  might  be 
well  to  lighten  the  load  and  satisfy  her  appetite  at 
the  same  time. 

"That  good  M'Pherson  is  quite  happy  with  Bae- 
deker, and  won't  be  vexed  if  I  am  gone  a  little  longer 
than  I  said,"  she  assured  herself.  There  was  no 
gracious  plateau  at  the  top  of  the  Weisshorn;  only 
a  sterile  heap  of  rocks  on  which  to  stand  for  self- 
gratulation  or  incidentally  to  admire  the  view;  and 
there  was,  beside,  enough  difficulty  in  reaching  this 
lower  point  of  vantage  to  make  the  venture  attract- 
ive. The  path  zigzagged  up,  a  mere  scratch  on  the 
face  of  the  mountain ;  but  the  plateau,  like  a  terrace 
laid  out  upon  a  buttress,  could  be  gained  only  by 
scrambling  over  rough  rocks  and  climbing  in  good 
earnest  here  and  there.  Beyond  the  visible  strip  of 
green,  the  natural  terrace  stretched  away  into  mys- 
tery round  the  corner,  like  the  end  of  a  picture  in 
perspective. 

Sylvia  calculated  the  effort  and  decided  that  she 
was  equal  to  it;  but  before  she  had  gone  half-way, 
she  would  gladly  have  stood  once  more  on  the  path 
worn  by  the  feet  of  less  ambitious  travellers.  She 


36  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

even  felt  a  certain  sympathy  with  tfie  sentiments 
Miss  M'Pherson  had  expressed ;  yet  there  was  noth- 
ing to  do  but  go  on.  It  would  be  worse  to  turn  than 
to  proceed.  Her  cheeks  began  to  burn,  and  her  heart 
to  tap  a  warning  against  her  side.  How  huge  a 
giant  was  this  mountain — towering  above  her,  fall- 
ing sheer  away  beneath  her  feet,  down  there  where 
she  did  not  care  to  look — how  pitifully  insignificant 
she. 

But  there  was  the  plateau,  bathed  in  sunshine  like 
the  Promised  Land.  And  to  her  ears  was  wafted 
therefrom  the  sound  of  a  man's  voice,  cheerily, 
melodiously  jodelling. 

"What  if  it  should  be  he?"  thought  Sylvia.  She 
had  come  all  the  way  from  England  to  meet  him, 
and  it  was  hard  that  he  should  jodel  while  she  per- 
ished. Much  good  would  it  do  her  if  her  spirit  be- 
held him  bending  over  her  crushed  material  remains. 

Still  the  voice  of  the  invisible  one  jodelled  on. 

"Help!"  Sylvia  added  an  impromptu  to  the 
chorus.  "He  may  as  well  save  me,  be  he  emperor 
or  tourist.  Oh,  I  hope  this  isn't  a  lesson  not  to  climb 
too  high.  Ought  I  to  call  for  help  in  Rhaetian  or 
English?  I'll  try  both,  to  make  quite  sure." 

She  did  try  both,  with  the  result  that  the  jodelling 
suddenly  stopped.  Instead,  an  iron-shod  boot  rang 
against  a  rock.  Forgetting  fear  in  desire  to  know 
whether  the  actor  now  to  appear  for  the  first  time  on 
her  life's  stage  would  be  hero  or  super,  her  foot 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  37 

slipped  from  its  scanty  hold.  Stumbling,  she  slid 
from  the  rocky  ledge  down  to  the  plateau,  finally 
landing  on  her  knees  at  the  feet  of  a  young  man  who 
strode  hastily  round  the  corner. 

"Himmel !"  exclaimed  a  voice,  half  laughing,  half 
startled.  She  dared  not  look  up,  lest  she  should  meet 
disappointment.  Would  it  be  he,  sent  to  her  by  Des- 
tiny, or  some  tourist,  sent  by  Cook? 

One  who  knew  Maximilian's  habits  well  (the  only 
one,  beside  her  mother,  wholly  taken  into  confidence) 
had  told  her  that  to  find  him  as  a  man,  and  not  an 
emperor,  she  should  make  her  pilgrimage  to  the 
Heiligengelt  in  the  chamois-hunting  season.  She 
had  remembered  this  hint.  She  had  come;  was  she 
now  about  to  see? 

Two  brown  hands  were  held  out  to  help  her. 
Slowly  she  raised  her  eyes.  They  travelled  up  and 
up.  Beginning  with  a  pair  of  big  nailed  boots,  they 
glided  over  the  knitted  detail  of  woollen  stockings, 
and  were  stopped  for  an  instant  at  an  unexpected 
obstacle  in  the  shape  of  bare,  muscular  brown  knees. 
(Thank  goodness,  at  least  Fate  had  spared  her  a 
tourist !)  Short  shabby  trousers ;  a  grey  coat,  passe- 
moiled  with  green,  from  one  pocket  of  which  pro- 
truded a  great  hunch  of  bread-and-ham,  evidently 
just  thrust  in;  broad  shoulders;  a  throat  like  a  col- 
umn of  bronze ;  a  face — the  blood  leaped  in  Sylvia's 
veins  and  sang  in  her  ears.  It  was  he — it  was  he! 
Here  was  the  eyrie :  the  eagle  was  at  home. 


38  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

All  her  life  had  but  led  up  to  this  moment.  Un- 
der the  soft  hat  of  green  felt,  adorned  with  the  beard 
of  a  chamois,  was  the  face  she  had  dreamed  of  by 
night  and  day.  A  dark,  austere  face,  with  more  of 
Mars  than  Apollo  in  its  lines,  but  to  her  worth  all 
the  ideals  of  all  the  sculptors  in  the  world.  He  was 
dressed  as  a  chamois-hunter,  and  there  was  nothing 
in  the  well-worn  costume  to  distinguish  the  wearer 
from  the  type  he  represented ;  but  as  easily  might  the 
eagle  to  whom  she  likened  him  try  to  pass  for  a  barn- 
yard fowl  as  this  man  for  a  peasant — so  Sylvia 
thought. 

She  hoped  that  he  did  not  feel  the  beating  in  her 
finger-ends  as  he  caught  her  hands,  lifted  and  set  her 
on  her  feet.  There  was  humiliation  in  this  tempest 
of  her  pulses,  knowing  that  he  did  not  share  it.  To 
her,  this  meeting  was  an  epoch :  to  him,  a  trivial  in- 
cident. She  would  have  keyed  his  emotion  to  hers, 
if  she  could,  but  since  she  had  had  years  of  prepara- 
tion, he  a  single  moment,  perhaps  she  might  have 
rested  satisfied  with  the  expression  in  his  eyes. 

It  said,  had  she  been  calm  enough  to  read  it :  "Is 
Heaven  raining  goddesses  to-day?" 

Now,  what  was  she  to  say  to  him?  How  make 
the  most  of  this  wonderful  chance  that  had  come, 
to  know  the  man  and  not  the  Emperor  ?  Each  word 
should  be  chosen,  like  a  bit  of  mosaic  that  fits  into 
a  complicated  pattern.  She  should  marshal  her  sen- 
tences as  a  general  marshals  his  battalions,  with  a 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  39 

plan  of  campaign  for  each  one.  A  spirit-monitor  (a 
match-making  montior)  seemed  to  whisper  these  ad- 
vices in  her  ear ;  yet  she  was  powerless  to  heed  them. 
Like  a  schoolgirl  about  to  be  examined  for  a  scholar- 
ship, knowing  that  all  the  future  might  depend  upon 
a  single  hour,  the  need  to  be  resourceful  left  her 
dumb.  How  many  times  had  she  not  planned  her 
first  conversation  with  Maximilian,  the  first  words 
she  should  speak  to  rivet  his  attention,  to  make  him 
feel  that  she  was  subtly  different  from  any  woman 
he  had  ever  known  ?  But  now,  epigrams  turned  tail 
and  raced  away  from  her  like  playful  colts  refusing 
to  be  caught. 

"I  hope  you  are  not  hurt?"  asked  the  chamois- 
hunter,  in  the  patois  dear  to  the  mountain-folk  of 
Rhaetia. 

Here  was  a  comfort ;  at  least  she  was  not  to  have 
the  responsibility  of  playing  the  first  card.  Meekly 
she  followed  his  lead. 

"Only  in  the  pride  that  comes  before  a  fall,"  she 
answered,  in  the  tongue  she  had  delighted  to  learn, 
because  it  was  her  hero's.  "There  should  be  a  sign 
between  the  path  and  this  plateau :  'All  save  suicides 
should  beware.' ' 

"We  have  never  thought  of  the  necessity,  my 
mates  and  I,"  said  the  man  in  the  grey  coat  passe- 
moiled  with  green.  "Until  you  came,  gna'  Fraulein, 
no  tourist  has  cared  to  run  the  risk." 

Sylvia's  eyes  lit  suddenly  with  a  sapphire  spark. 


40  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

The  spirit  of  mischief  nipped  her  beating  Heart  be- 
tween rosy  thumb  and  finger,  daring  her  to  a  frolic 
— such  a  frolic  as  no  girl  on  earth  had  ever  had. 
And  she  would  show  this  grave,  austere,  self-cen- 
tred young  hero  a  phase  of  life  he  had  not  seen  be- 
fore. Then,  let  come  what  would  out  of  this  adven- 
ture, at  least  she  should  have  an  Olympian  episode 
to  remember. 

"Until  /  came  ?"  She  caught  up  the  words,  stand- 
ing before  him  on  the  spot  where  he  had  placed  her. 
"But  I  am  no  tourist;  I  am  an  explorer." 

He  raised  level,  dark  eyebrows;  and  when  he 
smiled  half  his  austerity  was  gone.  So  beautiful  a 
girl  need  be  no  more  than  commonplace  of  thought 
and  speech ;  indeed,  the  hunter  of  chamois  expected 
little  else  from  women.  Yet  this  one  bade  fair  to 
have  surprises  in  reserve.  He  had  brought  down 
marvellous  game  to-day,  such  as  no  hunter  before 
him  had  ever  found  upon  the  mountain-side. 

"I  know  the  Weisshorn  well,"  said  he,  "and  love 
it ;  but  I  cannot  see  how  it  rewards  the  explorer ;  un- 
less you  are  a  climber  or  a  geologist." 

"I  am  neither ;  but  I  came  in  search  of  something 
that  I  have  wanted  all  my  life  to  see,"  replied  the 
girl. 

His  face  confessed  curiosity.  "Might  one  ask  the 
name  of  the  rare  thing?  Perhaps  one  might  help  in 
the  search." 

"I  feel  sure,"  replied  Sylvia  graciously,  "that  you 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  41 

could  help  me,  if  you  would,  as  well  as  anyone  on 
earth." 

"That  is  good  hearing,  lady,  though  I  know  not 
yet  how  I  have  deserved  the  compliment.  First  I 
must  hear  what  you  seek,  and  then" — 

"I  seek  a  rare  plant  that  grows  only  in  high  places. 
It  is  said  to  be  found  here  at  certain  seasons ;  though 
I  have  never  met  anyone  who  can  boast  of  plucking 
it.  I  would  that  I  could  be  the  first." 

"Is  it  the  Edelweiss,  gna'  Frauleln?  Because,  if 
so,  I  know  where  to  take  you." 

She  shook  her  head.  "The  botanical  name  is  very 
hard  to  pronounce.  But  it  is  sometimes  called  by 
common  people,  Edelmann.  I  should  be  disappointed 
to  go  away  without  a  sight  of  it — though  I  was 
warned  it  would  not  be  wise  to  come." 

"Those  were  wise  who  warned  you,  lady.  I  know 
of  no  such  plant  as  that  you  mention.  If  it  were 
here,  I  must  have  seen  it.  The  chance  was  not  worth 
the  danger  you  have  run." 

"Oh  yes,  the  chance  was  worth  the  danger.  You 
— a  chamois-hunter — to  say  that !  You  must  run  a 
thousand  risks  a  day  in  seeking  what  you  want." 

"But  I  am  a  man.  You  are  a  woman ;  and  women 
should  keep  to  beaten  paths  and  safety." 

"I  wonder,  is  that  the  theory  of  all  Rhaetians?  I 
know  your  Emperor  holds  it." 

"Who  told  you  that,  gna'  Fr'dulein?"    He  gave 


her  a  sharp  look;  but  her  violet  eyes  were  innocent 
of  guile,  as  the  flowers  they  resembled. 

"Oh,  many  people.  We  hear  much  of  him  in  Eng- 
land." 

"Good  things  or  bad  ?" 

"The  things  that  he  deserves.  Now,  can  you 
guess  which?  But  I  could  tell  you  more  if  I  were 
not  so  very,  very  hungry.  I  can't  help  seeing  your 
luncheon,  thrust  into  your  pocket,  perhaps,  when 
you  came  to  help  me.  Do  you  want  it  all"  (she  care- 
fully ignored  the  contents  of  her  rucksack),  "or — 
would  you  share  it?" 

The  chamois-hunter  looked  surprised.  But  then 
this  was  his  first  experience  of  a  feminine  explorer, 
and  he  quickly  rose  to  the  occasion. 

"There  is  more  bread  and  ham  where  this  came 
from,"  he  replied,  with  flattering  alacrity.  "Will 
you  be  graciously  pleased  to  accept  something  of  our 
best?" 

"If  you  please,  then  I  shall  be  much  pleased,"  she 
responded.  Miss  M'Pherson  was  forgotten.  Fortu- 
nately the  deserted  lady  was  supplied  with  congenial 
literature,  down  below. 

"I  and  some  friends  of  mine  have  a  sort  of — hut 
round  the  corner,"  announced  the  chamois-hunter, 
with  a  gesture  that  indicated  direction.  "No  woman 
has  ever  been  our  guest  there,  but  I  invite  you  to 
come  if  you  will.  Or,  if  you  prefer,  remain  here, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  I  will  bring  you  such  food  as 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  43 

\ve  have.  At  best  it  is  not  much  to  boast  of.  We 
chamois-hunters  are  poor  men,  living  roughly." 

Sylvia  smiled,  and  imprisoned  each  new  thought 
of  mischief  like  a  trapped  bird.  "I've  heard  you're 
rich  in  hospitality,"  she  said.  "Now  is  my  chance 
to  prove  the  story." 

The  eyes  of  the  hunter,  dark,  brilliant,  and  keen 
as  an  eagle's,  pierced  hers.  "You  have  no  fear?"  he 
said.  "You  are  a  woman,  alone,  in  a  desolate  place. 
For  what  you  know,  my  mates  and  I  may  be  a  set  of 
brigands." 

"Baedeker  does  not  mention  the  existence  of  brig- 
ands at  present  in  the  Rhaetian  Alps,"  retorted  Syl- 
via, with  quaint  dryness.  "I  have  always  found  him 
very  trustworthy.  I've  great  faith  in  the  chivalry  of 
Rhaetian  men,  whose  Emperor — though  he  thinks 
meanly  of  women — sets  so  good  an  example.  But 
if  you  knew  how  hungry  I  am,  you  would  not  keep 
me  waiting  for  talk  of  brigands.  Bread-and-butter 
is  far  more  to  the  point." 

"Even  search  for  the  Edelmann  may  wait  ?" 

"Yes;  the  Edelmann  may  wait — on  me."  (The 
last  two  words  were  added  in  a  whisper.) 

"You  must  pardon  my  going  first,"  said  the  young- 
man  with  the  bare  knees.  "The  way  here  is  too  nar- 
row for  politeness." 

"Yet  I  wish  that  our  peasants  at  home  had  such 
courteous  manners  as  yours,"  Sylvia  patronised  him. 


44  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"You  Rhaetians  need  not  go  to  Court,  I  see,  for 
rules  of  behaviour." 

"The  mountains  teach  us  something,  maybe." 

"Something  of  their  greatness,  which  we  should 
all  do  well  to  learn.  But  have  you  never  lived  in  a 
town  ?" 

"A  man  of  my  sort  exists  in  a  town;  he  lives  in 
the  mountains."  With  this  diplomatic  answer  the 
tall  figure  swung  round  a  corner  formed  by  a  boul- 
der, and  Sylvia  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise. 
The  "hut"  of  which  the  chamois-hunter  had  spoken 
was  revealed  by  the  turn,  and  it  was  of  an  original 
and  picturesque  description.  Instead  of  the  humble 
erection  of  stones  and  wood  which  she  had  expected, 
the  rocky  side  of  the  mountain  had  been  utilised  to 
afford  her  sons  a  shelter. 

A  doorway,  and  large  square  panes  for  windows, 
had  been  made  in  the  red-veined,  purplish-brown 
porphyry;  while  a  heavy  slab  of  oak  (now  standing 
ajar),  and  wooden  frames,  glittering  with  jewel-like 
bottle-glass,  protected  the  rooms  within  from  storm 
or  cold. 

Even  had  the  Princess  been  ignorant  of  her  host's 
identity  she  would  have  been  wise  enough  to  know 
that  this  was  no  Sennhutte,  or  common  abode  of 
peasants  who  hunt  the  chamois  for  a  precarious  liv- 
ing. The  work  of  hewing  out  in  the  solid  rock  such 
a  habitation  as  this  must  alone  have  cost  more  than 
most  chamois-hunters  could  save  in  a  lifetime;  but, 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  45 

after  her  first  ejaculation  she  expressed  no  further 
amazement,  only  admiration. 

The  man  stood  aside  that  she  might  pass  into  the 
outer  room,  and,  though  she  was  not  invited  to  fur- 
ther exploration,  she  could  see  by  the  several  doors 
cut  in  the  walls  that  this  was  not  the  sole  accommo- 
dation which  the  curious  house  could  boast. 

On  the  stone  floor  rugs  of  deer  and  chamois  skin 
were  spread;  in  a  rack  of  oak,  ornamented  with 
splendid  antlers  and  studded  with  the  sharp,  pointed 
horns  of  the  chamois,  were  suspended  guns  of  mod- 
ern make  and  brightly  polished  knives.  The  table 
in  the  middle  of  the  room  had  been  carved  with  ex- 
ceeding skill;  and  the  half-dozen  chairs  were  oddly 
fashioned  of  stags'  antlers,  formed  to  hold  fur- 
cushioned  wooden  seats.  A  carved  dresser  of  black 
oak  held  a  store  of  the  brightly  coloured  china  made 
by  the  peasants  in  the  valley  below,  eked  out  with 
platters  and  tankards  of  old  pewter ;  and  in  the  great 
fireplace  a  gipsy  kettle  was  suspended  over  a  red  bed 
of  fragrant  pine-wood  embers. 

"This  is  a  place  fit  for  a  king — or  even  an  empe- 
ror," Sylvia  said,  with  demure  graciousness,  when 
the  bare-kneed  young  man  had  offered  her  a  seat  and 
crossed  the  room  to  open  the  closed  cupboard  under 
the  dresser.  He  was  stooping  as  she  spoke,  but  at 
her  last  words  looked  quickly  round  over  his  shoul- 
der. 

"We  peasants  are  not  afraid  of  a  little  work,  when 


4(5  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

it  is  for  our  own  comfort,"  he  responded.  "And 
most  of  the  things  you  see  are  home-made  during 
the  long  winters." 

"Then  you  are  all  very  clever.  But  tell  me,  has 
the  Emperor  ever  been  your  guest?  I  have  read — 
let  me  see,  could  it  have  been  in  a  guide-book,  or  per- 
haps in  some  society  paper? — that  he  comes  occa- 
sionally to  the  mountains  here." 

"Oh,  yes;  the  Kaiser  has  been  at  this  hut — once, 
twice,  perhaps."  Her  host  laid  a  loaf  of  black  bread, 
a  cut  cheese,  and  a  knuckle  of  ham  on  the  table.  He 
then  glanced  at  his  guest,  expecting  her  to  come  for- 
ward; but  she  sat  still  on  her  throne  of  antlers,  her 
little  feet  in  their  strong  mountain  boots,  daintily 
crossed  under  the  short  tweed  skirt. 

"I  hear  your  Kaiser  is  a  good  chamois-hunter," 
she  leisurely  remarked.  "But  that,  perhaps,  is  only 
the  flattery  which  makes  the  atmosphere  of  kings. 
No  doubt,  you  could  give  him  many  points  in 
chamois-hunting  ?" 

The  young  man  smiled.  "The  Emperor  is  not  a 
bad  shot,"  he  returned. 

"For  an  amateur.  But  you  are  a  professional.  I 
wager  now  that  you  would  not  change  places  with 
the  Emperor?" 

How  the  chamois-hunter  laughed  and  showed  his 
white  teeth!  There  were  those,  in  the  towns  he 
scorned,  who  would  have  been  astonished  at  his 
levity. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  47 

"CKange  places  with  the  Emperor?  Not — unless 
I  were  obliged,  gna'  Fraulein.  Not  now,  at  all 
events,"  with  a  meaning  bow  and  glance. 

"Thank  you.  You  are  quiet  a  courtier.  One  of 
the  things  they  say  of  him  in  England  is  that  he 
dislikes  women.  But  perhaps  he  does  not  under- 
stand them  ?" 

"Indeed,  lady?  I  had  not  heard  that  they  were 
so  difficult  of  comprehension." 

"Ah,  that  shows  how  little  you  chamois-hunters 
know  them.  Why,  we  can't  understand  ourselves! 
Though — a  very  odd  thing — we  have  no  difficulty 
in  reading  one  another,  and  knowing  all  each  other's 
faults." 

"That  would  seem  to  say  a  man  should  get  a 
woman  to  choose  a  wife  for  him." 

"Fm  not  so  sure.  Yet  the  Emperor,  we  hear,  will 
let  his  Chancellor  choose  his." 

"Ah!    Were  you  told  this  also  in  England?" 

"Yes.  For  the  gossip  is  that  she's  an  English 
Princess.  Now,  what  is  the  good  of  being  an  Em- 
peror if  he  can't  even  pick  out  a  wife  to  please  him- 
self?" 

"I  know  little  about  such  high  matters,  gna'  Frau- 
lein. But  I  fancied  that  Royal  folk  chose  wives  to 
please  the  people  rather  than  themselves.  If  the  lady 
be  of  good  blood,  virtuous,  of  the  right  religion,  and 
pleasant  to  look  at,  why — those  are  the  principal 
things,  I  suppose." 


48  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"So  should  I  not  suppose,  if  I  were  a  man — and 
an  Emperor.  I  should  want  to  fall  in  love." 

"Safer  not ;  he  might  fall  in  love  with  the  wrong 
woman."  And  the  chamois-hunter  looked  with  a 
certain  intentness  into  his  guest's  deep  eyes. 

She  flushed  under  the  gaze,  and  answered  at  ran- 
dom, "I  doubt  if  he  could  fall  in  love.  A  man  who 
would  let  his  Chancellor  choose!  He  can  have  no 
heart  at  all." 

"He  has  perhaps  found  other  things  more  im- 
portant in  life  than  women." 

"Chamois,  for  instance.  You  would  sympathise 
there." 

"Chamois  give  good  sport.  They  are  hard  to  find ; 
hard  to  hit  when  you  have  found  them." 

"So  are  the  best  types  of  women.  Those  who, 
like  the  chamois  (and  the  plant  I  spoke  of),  live 
only  in  high  places.  Oh,  for  the  sake  of  my  sex,  I 
hope  that  one  day  your  Emperor  will  be  forced  to 
change  his  mind — that  a  woman  will  make  him 
change  it!" 

"Perhaps  a  woman  has — already." 

Sylvia  grew  pale.  Was  she  too  late  ?  Or  was  this 
a  hidden  compliment  which  the  chamois-hunter  did 
not  guess  she  had  the  clue  to  understand  ?  She  could 
not  answer.  The  silence  grew  electrical,  and  he 
broke  it  with  some  slight  confusion.  "It  is  a  pity 
the  Kaiser  cannot  hear  you.  He  might  be  converted 
to  your  more  English  views," 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  49 

"Or  he  might  clap  me  into  prison  for  ttse- 
majeste." 

"He  would  not  do  that,  gna'  Frdulein — if  he's 
anything  like  me." 

"Which  is  just  what  he  is — in  appearance,  I  mean, 
judging  by  his  pictures." 

"You  have  seen  his  pictures?" 

"Oh,  yes — you  are  really  rather  like  him,  only 
browner  and  bigger,  perhaps.  Yet  I  am  glad  that 
you  are  a  chamois-hunter  and  not  an  Emperor — as 
glad  as  you  can  be." 

"Will  you  tell  me  why,  lady?" 

"Oh,  for  one  reason,  because  I  could  not  ask  him 
to  do  what  I'm  going  to  ask  of  you.  You  have  laid 
the  bread  and  ham  ready,  but  you  forgot  to  cut  it." 

"A  thousand  pardons.  Our  conversation  has  sent 
my  wits  wool-gathering.  My  mind  should  have 
been  on  my  manners,  instead  of  such  far-off  things 
as  emperors."  He  began  hewing  at  the  black  loaf 
as  if  it  were  an  enemy  to  be  conquered.  And  there 
were  few  in  Rhaetia  who  had  ever  seen  those  dark 
eyes  so  bright. 

"I  like  ham  and  bread  cut  thin,  if  you  please," 
said  Sylvia.  "There — that  is  better.  I  will  sit  here, 
if  you  will  bring  the  things  to  me.  You  are  very 
kind ; — and  I  find  that  I  am  tired." 

"A  draught  of  our  Rhaetian  beer  will  put  better 
heart  into  you,  it  may  be,"  suggested  the  hunter, 
taking  up  the  plate  of  bread  and  meat  he  had  cut, 


50  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

placing  it  in  her  hand,  and  returning  to  draw  a  tank- 
ard of  foaming  amber  liquid  from  a  quaint  hogshead 
in  a  corner. 

But  Sylvia  waved  the  krug  away  with  a  smile  and 
a  pretty  gesture.  "My  head  has  proved  to  be  not 
strong  enough  for  your  mountains ;  I'm  sure  it  isn't 
strong  enough  for  your  beer.  Have  you  some  cold 
water  ?" 

The  hunter  of  chamois  laughed  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  "Our  water  here  is  fit  only  for  the  out- 
side of  the  body,"  he  explained.  "To  us,  that  is  no 
deprivation,  as  we  are  true  Rhaetians  for  our  beer. 
But  on  your  account  I  am  sorry." 

"Perhaps  you  have  milk  ?"  asked  Sylvia.  "I  could 
scarcely  count  the  cows,  they  were  so  many,  as  I 
came  up  the  mountain." 

"There  are  plenty  of  cows  about,"  answered  the 
young  man  dubiously.  "But  if  I  fetch  one,  can  you 
milk  it?" 

"Pray,  good  friend,  fetch  the  cow  and  milk  the 
cow,"  cried  Sylvia.  "And  here  is  a  trifle  to  reward 
all  your  kindness  and  trouble." 

She  would  not  see  the  blood  rising  in  a  red  tide 
to  the  brown  forehead,  but  bent  her  eyes  upon  her 
hand,  from  which  she  slowly  withdrew  a  ring.  It 
fitted  tightly,  for  it  was  years  since  she  had  had  it 
made,  before  the  little  fingers  had  finished  growing. 
And  when  she  had  pulled  off  the  circlet  of  gold,  she 
held  it  up  alluringly. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  51 

"I  will  do  my  best  to  get  you  the  milk,"  said  the 
hunter,  "but  we  mountain  men  don't  take  payment 
from  our  guests." 

"Here  is  no  payment;  only  something  to  help  you 
remember  the  first  woman  who,  as  you  say,  has  ever 
entered  this  door.  Please  come  at  least  and  look." 

The  hunter  drew  near  and  took  the  proffered  or- 
nament. "The  crest  of  Rhaetia!"  he  exclaimed,  as 
his  eyes  fell  upon  a  shield  of  black  and  green  enamel, 
set  with  tiny,  sparkling  brilliants. 

"Press  a  spring  on  the  left  side,"  directed  the 
giver,  a  faint  tremor  in  her  voice;  "and  when  you 
have  seen  the  secret  it  will  show,  you  may  guess  why 
I  spoke  at  first  of  the  ring  as  a  reward,  and  why  you 
can't  loyally  refuse  to  accept  it." 

The  brown  forefinger  found  a  pin's  point  prom- 
inence of  gold,  and  pressing,  the  shield  flew  up  to  re- 
veal a  miniature  of  Emperor  Maximilian. 

"You  are  surprised?"  said  Sylvia. 

"I  am  surprised,  because  I  understood  that  you 
thought  poorly  of  our  Kaiser." 

"Poorly?    What  gave  you  that  impression?" 

"Why,  you  scorned  his  opinion  of  women." 

"Who  am  I  to  scorn  an  Emperor's  opinion,  even 
on  a  matter  he  would  consider  so  unimportant?  I 
confess  we  English  girls  are  interested  in  your  Max- 
imilian, if  only  because  we  would  be  charitably 
minded  and  teach  him  better.  But  as  for  the  ring — 
they  sell  such  things  in  Wandeck  and  many  of  the 


52  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

towns  I  have  been  visiting  in  Rhaetia.  Did  you  not 
know  that?" 

"No,  lady,  I  did  not  know  it." 

Nor,  as  a  plain  matter  of  fact,  did  Sylvia.  She 
had  first  acted  on  impulse,  and  then  spoken  at  ran- 
dom. The  ring  had  been  made  to  order  from  a  de- 
sign of  her  own,  while  she  herself  had  painted  the 
tiny  miniature  on  ivory.  But  she  had  been  urged  by 
a  sudden  desire  to  see  him  lift  the  jewelled  shield; 
and  the  time  was  not  yet  ripe  for  confessions.  "Keep 
the  trinket  for  your  Kaiser's  sake,"  she  said. 

"May  I  not  keep  it  for  yours  as  well  ?" 

"Yes — if  you  bring  me  the  milk." 

The  chamois-hunter  caught  up  a  gaudy  jug,  and, 
without  further  words,  strode  out.  When  he  had 
gone,  the  Princess  rose,  and,  lifting  the  knife  he  had 
used  to  slice  the  bread  and  ham,  she  kissed  the  handle 
on  the  place  where  his  brown  fingers  had  grasped  it. 
"You  are  a  very  silly  girl,  my  dear,"  she  said.  "But 
oh!  how  you  do  love  him!  And  what  an  exquisite 
hour  you  are  having!" 

For  ten  minutes  she  sat  alone ;  then  the  door  was 
flung  open  and  her  host  returned,  no  longer  with  the 
gay  air  that  had  sat  like  a  new  cloak  upon  him,  but 
hot  and  sulky,  the  jug  in  his  hand  empty  still. 

"I  could  not  milk  the  cow,"  he  admitted  shortly. 
"I  chased  one  brute  and  then  another ;  one  I  caught, 
but  something  was  wrong  with  the  abominable  beast, 
for  no  milk  would  she  give  me," 


53 

"Pray  don't  mind/'  Sylvia  soothed  him,  hiding 
laughter.  "You  were  kind  to  try.  Luckily  you're 
not  the  Kaiser,  who  prides  himself  on  doing  all 
things.  I  wonder,  now,  if  he  could  milk  a  cow?" 

"He  should  learn,  if  not,"  broke  out  the  chamois- 
hunter.  "There's  no  telling,  it  seems,  when  one  may 
want  the  strangest  accomplishments,  and  be  shamed 
for  lack  of  them." 

"No,  not  shamed,"  protested  Sylvia.  "I  am  no 
longer  thirsty,  and  you  have  been  so  good.  See; 
while  you  were  gone,  I  ate  the  bread-and-ham,  and 
never  did  any  meal  taste  better.  Now,  you  will  have 
many  things  to  do;  I've  trespassed  too  long;  and, 
besides,  I  have  a  friend  waiting.  Will  you  tell  me 
by  what  name  I  shall  remember  you  when  I  recall 
this  day?" 

"They  named  me — for  the  Kaiser." 

"Oh,  then  I  shall  call  you  Max.  Max!  What  a 
nice  name!  I  like  it,  I  think,  as  well  as  any  I  have 
ever  heard.  Will  you  shake  hands  for  good-bye?" 

The  strong  hand  came  out  eagerly.  "But  it  is 
not  'good-bye'  gnd  Fraulein.  You  must  let  me  help 
you  back  to  the  path  and  down  the  mountain." 

"I  wished,  but  dared  not  ask  that  of  you,  lest — 
like  your  namesake — you  were  a  hater  of  women." 

"That  is  too  hard  a  word,  even  for  an  Emperor, 
lady.  While  as  for  me — well,  if  I  ever  said  to  my- 
self, 'Women  are  not  much  good  to  men  as  their 
companions,'  I'm  ready  to  unsay  it." 


54  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"Then  you  shall  come  with  me,  and  we'll  look  for 
the  Edelmann,  though  I've  wasted  too  much  time 
over  my  pleasure.  And  you  shall  help  me ;  and  you 
shall  help  my  friend,  who  is  so  strong-minded  that 
she  will  perhaps  make  you  think  better  of  our  sex. 
And  you  shall  be  our  guide  down  to  Heiligengelt, 
where  we  are  staying  at  the  inn.  And  you  shall,  if 
you  will,  carry  our  cloaks  and  rucksacks,  which  seem 
so  heavy  to  us,  but  will  be  nothing  for  your  strong 
shoulders." 

The  face  of  the  chamois-hunter  expressed  such 
mirthful  appreciation  of  her  commands,  that  Sylvia 
turned  her  head  away,  lest  he  should  guess  she  held 
a  key  to  the  inner  situation.  His  willingness  to  be- 
come a  beast  of  burden  at  the  service  of  the  English 
lady  whom  he  had  seen,  and  her  whom  he  had  yet 
to  see,  was  undoubtedly  genuine.  For  the  next  few 
hours  he  was  free,  it  seemed — this  namesake  of  the 
Emperor.  He  had  been  out  before  dawn,  and  had 
had  good  luck.  Later,  he  had  returned  to  the  hut 
for  a  meal  and  rest,  while  his  friends  went  down  to 
the  village  on  business.  But  he  had  meant  all  along 
to  join  them  sooner  or  later;  and  he  hoped  that  he 
might  atone  by  his  assistance  for  his  failure  with  the 
cow. 

"Do  not  go  away  thinking  that  we  Rhaetians, 
Royal  or  peasant,  are  so  cold  of  heart  as  you  have 
fancied,  gna'  Fr'dulein,"  he  said  at  last,  when  their 
tete-a-tete  ended  with  a  sight  of  Miss  M'Pherson's 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  55 

distant  profile.  "The  torrent  of  our  blood  may  sleep 
for  a  season  under  ice,  but  when  the  spring  comes, 
and  the  ice  is  broken,  then  the  torrent  gushes  forth 
more  hotly,  because  it  has  not  spent  its  strength  be- 
fore." 

"I  shall  remember  that,"  said  Slyvia,  "for — my 
journal  of  Rhaetia." 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  the  distant  profile  be- 
came a  full  face,  with  telescopic  eye-glasses,  gazing 
starwards. 

"I  thought  you  were  never  coming,"  exclaimed 
Miss  M'Pherson ;  then  stopped  abruptly  at  the  sight 
of  the  young  man  with  bare  knees. 

"Perhaps  I  never  should,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
help  of  this  good  friend,"  responded  Sylvia;  "for  I 
got  myself  into  unexpected  difficulties  up  there.  His 
name  is  Max,  and  he  is  a  monarch  of — chamois- 
hunters.  Give  him  your  rucksack  and  cape,  dear 
Miss  Collinson ;  Max  is  kind  enough  to  be  our  guide 
down  the  mountain,  as  you  seemed  so  timid  about 
making  the  descent  with  me  alone." 

Miss  M'Pherson,  a  staunch  Royalist  and  firm  be- 
liever in  the  divine  right  of  kings,  grew  crimson  as 
to  nose  and  ears — a  mute  protest  against  this  mis- 
chievous command.  What  a  thing  to  have  hap- 
pened !  Here  was  her  adored  young  Princess  lead- 
ing the  Imperial  Eagle  (disguised,  indeed,  yet 
Royal  withal)  a  captive  in  chains.  What  an  achieve- 


56  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

ment  even  for  all-conquering  beauty,  within  the 
space  of  one  short  hour — short  for  so  great  a  con- 
quest, though  it  had  appeared  long  enough  in  wait- 
ing. Such  triumph  was  no  more  than  a  tribute  due 
to  that  Rose-of-all-the- World,  Princess  Sylvia  of 
Eltzburg-Neuwald,  and  must  have  been  given  her 
by  the  patron  saint  of  lovers.  But  that  Jane  M'Pher- 
son,  daughter  of  a  plain  country  parson  of  Dumbar- 
tonshire, should  fling  upon  the  sacred  shoulders  of 
an  Emperor  her  brown  canvas  rucksack,  stuffed  with 
eggs  and  bread  and  cheese;  her  golf-cape,  with 
goloshes  in  the  pocket,  was  too  monstrous.  Her 
whole  nature  revolted  against  the  suggestion  of  such 
lese-majeste. 

"Pray,  dearest  P — Mary,"  the  unhappy  lady  stam- 
mered, "don't  ask  me  to — really  these  things  of  mine 
are  nothing.  I  can  hardly  feel  their  weight." 

"All  the  better  for  our  friend  Max,  since  he  is  to 
carry  them,"  came  the  calm  response.  "Help  her 
to  undo  the  buckles,  please,  Max.  Now  you  may 
have  the  pleasure  of  giving  her  your  arm." 


CHAPTER  IV 

MAX  versus  MAXIMILIAN 

"AcH  Himmel!"  exclaimed  Frau  Johann.  And 
"Ach  Himmel !"  she  exclaimed  again,  with  frantic 
uplifting  of  the  hands. 

The  Grand  Duchess  turned  pale,  for  the  landlady 
had  suddenly  exhibited  these  signs  of  emotion  while 
passing  a  window  of  the  private  sitting-room.  It 
was  the  hour  for  afternoon  tea  in  England,  for  after- 
noon coffee  in  Rhaetia;  and  already  the  Princess's 
mother  had  begun  to  look  nervously  for  the  climbers* 
return.  Naturally,  at  Frau  Johann's  outburst  of  ex- 
citement, her  imagination  pictured  disaster. 

"What — oh,  what  can  you  see?"  she  implored  in 
piercing  accents;  but  for  once  the  courtesy  due  a 
guest  was  forgotten,  and  Frau  Johann  fled  without 
giving  an  answer. 

Half  paralysed  with  apprehension,  her  mind  con- 
juring some  sight  of  terror,  the  Grand  Duchess  tot- 
tered to  the  window.  Was  there — yes,  there  was  a 
procession.  Oh,  horror !  They  were  perhaps  bring- 
ing Sylvia  down  from  the  mountain,  dead,  her  beau- 

57 


58  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

tiful  face  crushed  out  of  recognition.  Yet  no — 
there  was  Sylvia  herself,  the  central  figure  in  that 
procession.  A  peasant,  loaded  with  cloaks  and 
rucksacks,  headed  the  band,  while  Sylvia  and  Miss 
M'Pherson  followed  after. 

The  anxious  mother  had  thrown  wide  the  window, 
but  as  she  was  about  to  attract  the  truants'  attention 
with  an  impromptu  speech  of  welcome,  the  words 
were  arrested  on  her  lips.  What  was  the  matter 
with  Frau  Johann? 

The  old  woman  had  popped  out  of  the  door  like 
a  Jack  out  of  his  box,  sprung  to  the  much-loaded 
peasant,  and,  almost  rudely  elbowing  Miss  M'Pher- 
son aside,  was  distractedly  tearing  at  the  bundle  of 
cloaks  and  rucksacks.  Her  inarticulate  groans  as- 
cended to  the  Grand  Duchess  at  the  window,  adding 
to  the  lady's  increased  bewilderment. 

"What  has  the  man  been  doing?"  the  Grand 
Duchess  demanded.  But  nobody  answered,  because 
nobody  heard. 

"Pray  let  him  carry  our  things  indoors,"  Sylvia 
was  insisting,  while  the  peasant  stood  among  the 
three  women,  apparently  a  prey  to  conflicting  emo- 
tions. To  the  Grand  Duchess,  as  she  regarded  the 
strange  scene  through  her  lorgnette,  it  seemed  that 
his  dark  face  expressed  a  mingling  of  amusement, 
annoyance,  and  embarrassment.  He  looked  like  a 
man  who  had  somehow  placed  himself  in  a  false  po- 
sition, and  was  torn  betwixt  a  desire  to  laugh  and  to 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  59 

fly  into  a  rage.  He  frowned  haughtily  at  Frau  Jo- 
hann,  smiled  at  the  two  ladies,  dividing  his  energies 
between  secret  gestures  (which  he  evidently  intended 
for  the  eye  of  the  landlady  alone)  and  endeavours 
to  unburden  himself,  in  his  own  time  and  way,  of 
the  load  he  carried. 

More  and  more  did  the  Grand  Duchess  wonder 
what  was  going  on.  Why  did  the  man  not  speak 
out  what  he  had  to  say?  Why  did  Frau  Johann  at 
first  seek  to  seize  the  things  which  he  had  on  his 
back,  then  suddenly  shrink  away  as  if  in  fear,  leav- 
ing the  brown- faced  peasant  to  his  own  devices? 
How  had  he  contrived,  with  a  look,  to  intimidate 
that  brave  and  honest  woman? 

There  was  mystery  here,  thought  the  Grand 
Duchess;  and  she  remembered  dark  tales  of  brig- 
ands, dreaded  by  all  the  country-folk,  yet  protected 
for  very  fear.  She  was  painfully  near-sighted,  but 
by  constant  application  of  the  lorgnette  she  arrived 
at  a  logical  conclusion. 

Frau  Johann  had  doubtless  been  frightened  at 
seeing  her  guests  coming  down  the  mountain  in  such 
evil  company.  She  had  rushed  to  their  succour,  try- 
ing to  make  sure  that  their  belongings  had  not  been 
tampered  with.  But  those  great  brown  eyes  under 
the  rakish  hat  had  glared  a  secret  warning,  and  Frau 
Johann  has  despairingly  abandoned  her  champion- 
ship of  the  ladies. 

In  the  adjoining  sitting-room,  the  Grand  Duchess 


60  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

had  reason  to  know,  were  at  that  moment  assembled 
some  or  all  of  the  mysterious  gentlemen  stopping"  at 
the  inn.  They  had  probably  been  attracted  to  their 
window  by  the  voices  below ;  and  the  Grand  Duchess 
courageously  resolved  that,  at  the  slightest  sign  cf 
impudence  on  the  part  of  the  luggage-carrier,  these 
noblemen  should  be  promptly  summoned  by  her  to 
the  rescue. 

Her  anxiety  was  even  slightly  allayed  at  this 
point  in  her  reflections  by  the  thought  (she  had  not 
quite  outgrown  an  innate  love  of  romance)  that  the 
Emperor  himself  might  rush  to  the  succour  of  beauty 
in  distress.  His  friends  were  in  the  next  room,  hav- 
ing come  down  from  the  mountains  at  noon,  and 
there  seemed  little  doubt  that  he  was  among  them. 
If  he  had  not  already  looked  out  from  the  window, 
and  been  astonished  at  the  sight  of  so  much  loveli- 
ness, the  Grand  Duchess  decided,  upon  an  inspira- 
tion, that  he  must  be  induced  to  do  so.  She  would 
help  on  Sylvia's  cause  and  win  her  gratitude  when 
the  true  story  of  this  day  should  be  told. 

In  a  penetrating  voice,  which  could  not  fail  to 
reach  the  ears  of  those  in  the  room  adjoining  hers, 
or  the  ears  of  the  actors  in  the  scene  below,  she  ad- 
jured her  daughter  in  English.  This  language  was 
safest,  she  considered,  as  the  desperado  with  the 
rucksacks  could  not  understand  and  resent  her  criti- 
cism, while  the  flower  of  Rhaetian  chivalry  next  door 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  61 

would  comprehend  both  the  words  and  the  necessity 
for  action. 

"Mary !"  she  shrieked,  loyally  remembering  in  her 
excitement  the  part  she  was  playing.  "Mary,  where 
did  you  pick  up  that  alarming-looking  ruffian?  I 
believe  he  intends  to  keep  your  riicksacks.  Is  there 
no  man-servant  about  the  place  whom  Frau  Johann 
can  call  to  her  assistance?" 

All  four  of  the  actors  glanced  up,  aware  for  the 
first  time  of  an  audience.  Had  the  Grand  Duchess 
been  less  near-sighted,  less  agitated,  she  might 
have  been  surprised  at  the  varying  yet  vivid  expres- 
sions of  the  faces.  But  she  saw  only  that  the  tall, 

"* 

dark-faced  peasant,  who  had  so  glared  at  poor  Frau 
Johann,  was  throwing  off  his  burdens  with  sudden 
haste  and  roughness. 

"I  do  hope  he  hasn't  stolen  anything,"  said  the 
Grand  Duchess.  "Better  not  let  him  go  until  you 
have  looked  into  your  rucksacks.  That  silver  drink- 
ing-cup  you  would  take  up" — 

She  paused,  not  so  much  in  obedience  to  Sylvia's 
quick  reply,  as  in  amazement  at  Frau  Johann's  re- 
newed antics.  Was  it  possible  that  the  landlady  un- 
derstood more  English  than  her  guests  supposed, 
and  feared  lest  the  man  with  the  bare  knees — per- 
haps equally  well-informed — might  seek  immediate 
revenge?  Those  bare  knees  alone  were  evidence 
against  his  character  in  the  eyes  of  the  Grand  Duch- 
ess, They  imparted  a  brazen,  desperate  air;  and  a 


62  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

man  who  cultivated  so  long  a  space  between  stock- 
ings and  trousers  might  easily  be  capable  of  any 
crime. 

"Oh,  mother,  you  are  very  much  mistaken.  This 
excellent  young  man  is  a  great  friend  of  mine,  and 
has  saved  my  life,"  Sylvia  was  protesting;  and  her 
words  began  at  length  to  penetrate  the  ears  of  the 
Grand  Duchess.  Overwhelmed  by  their  full  im- 
port, she  suffered  a  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling, 
which  caused  her  to  catch  at  the  window-curtains 
for  support. 

"Saved  your  life!"  she  echoed.  "Then  you  have 
been  in  danger.  Thank  Heaven  the  young  man  is 
not  likely  to  know  English,  or  I  should  not  soon  for- 
give myself.  Here  is  my  purse.  Give  it  to  him,  and 
come  indoors  at  once.  You  really  look  ready  to 
faint." 

So  speaking,  she  snatched  from  a  table  close  by 
her  purse,  containing  ten  or  twelve  pounds  in  Rhae- 
tian  money;  but  before  she  could  accomplish  her 
dramatic  purpose,  flinging  the  guerdon  literally  at 
the  misjudged  hero's  feet,  Sylvia  prevented  her  with 
an  imploring  gesture. 

"He  will  take  no  reward  for  what  he  has  done 
save  our  thanks,  and  those  I  give  him  now,  for  the 
second  time,"  cried  the  girl.  She  then  turned  to  the 
man,  and  made  him  a  present  of  her  hand,  over 
which  he  bowed  with  the  air  of  a  courtier  rather 
than  the  rough  manner  of  a  peasant.  The  Grand 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  63 

Duchess  still  hoped  that  the  Emperor  might  be  at 
the  window,  as  really  it  was  a  pretty  sight,  and  pre- 
sented a  pleasing  phase  of  Sylvia's  character. 

She  eagerly  awaited  her  daughter's  approach,  and 
having  lingered  to  watch  with  impatience  the  rather 
ceremonious  parting,  she  hastened  to  the  door  of  the 
sitting-room  to  welcome  the  travellers  as  they  came 
upstairs. 

"My  darling,  who  do  you  think  was  listening  and 
looking  from  the  window  next  ours?"  she  breath- 
lessly inquired,  when  she  had  embraced  her  recov- 
ered treasure — for  the  secret  of  the  adjoining  room 
was  too  great  to  keep.  "You  can't  guess  ?  I'm  sur- 
prised at  that,  since  you  are  not  ignorant  of  a  cer- 
tain person's  nearness.  Why,  who  but  the  Emperor 
himself?" 

"Then  he  must  have  an  astral  body — a  Doppel- 
ganger,"  said  Sylvia,  "since  he  has  been  with  me  all 
day,  and  that  was  he  to  whom  you  offered  your 
purse." 

The  Grand  Duchess  sat  down;  not  so  much  be- 
cause she  desired  to  assume  the  sitting  position  as 
because  she  experienced  a  sudden  weakening  of  the 
knees.  For  a  moment  she  was  unable  to  speculate: 
but  a  poignant  thought  passed  through  her  brain. 
"Heavens!  what  have  I  done?  And  it  may  be  that 
one  day  he  will  become  my  son-in-law." 

Meanwhile,  Frau  Johann — a  strangely  subdued 


64  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

Frau  Johann — had  droopingly  followed  the  chamois- 
hunter  into  the  house. 

"My  friend,  you  must  learn  not  to  lose  your  head," 
said  he,  when  she  had  timidly  joined  him  in  the 
otherwise  deserted  hall. 

"Oh,  but,  your  Majesty" — 

"How  many  times  must  I  remind  you  that  His 
Majesty  remains  in  Salzbruck  or  some  other  of  his 
residences  when  I  am  at  Heiligengelt  ?  If  you  can- 
not remember,  I  must  look  for  chamois  elsewhere 
than  on  the  Weisshorn." 

"I  will  not  forget  again,  your — I  mean,  I  will  do 
my  best.  Yet  never  before  have  I  been  so  tried.  To 
see  your  noble  and  high-born  shoulders  loaded  down 
as  if — as  if  you  had  been  but  a  common  Gep'dck- 
tr'dger  instead  of" — 

"A  chamois-hunter?  Don't  distress  yourself,  my 
friend.  I  have  had  a  very  good  day's  sport." 

"It  has  given  me  a  weakness  of  the  heart,  your — 
sir.  How  can  I  again  order  myself  civilly  to  those 
ladies,  who" — 

"Who  have  afforded  peasant  Max  a  few  amusing 
hours.  Be  more  civil  than  ever,  for  my  sake,  friend. 
And,  by  the  way,  do  you  happen  to  know  the  names 
of  the  ladies  ?  That  one  of  them  is  Miss  Collinson, 
I  have  heard ;  but  the  others" — 

"They  are  mother  and  daughter,  sir.  The  elder, 
who  spoke,  in  her  ignorance,  such  treasonable  things 
from  the  window,  is  called  by  Miss  Collinson  'Lady 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  65 

de  Courcy.'  The  younger — the  beautiful  one — is 
also  a  miss;  and  I  think  her  name  is  Mary.  They 
talk  together  in  English,  and  though  I  know  few 
words  of  that  language,  I  have  heard  'London'  men- 
tioned not  once,  but  many  times  between  them.  Be- 
sides, it  is  painted  in  big  black  letters  on  their 
boxes." 

"You  did  not  expect  them  here?" 

"Oh,  no,  sir.  Had  anyone  written  at  this  season, 
when  I  am  honoured  by  your  presence,  I  should  have 
answered  that  we  were  full,  or  the  house  closed, — or 
any  excuse  which  occurred  to  me.  But  no  strangers 
have  ever  remained  in  Heiligengelt,  or  arrived  so 
late;  and  I  was  taken  unawares  when  my  son  Alois 
drove  them  up  last  night.  They  are  here  but  for  a 
few  days,  on  their  way  to  Salzbriick,  and  so  home, 
the  pretty  Miss  de  Courcy  said;  and  I  thought" — 

"You  did  quite  right,  Frau  Johann.  Has  my  mes- 
senger come  with  letters?" 

"Yes,  your — yes,  sir;  just  now  also  a  telegram 
was  brought  up  by  another  messenger,  who  came  in 
a  great  hurry,  and  has  but  lately  gone." 

The  chamois-hunter  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
gave  vent  to  an  impatient  sigh.  "It  is  too  much  to 
expect  that  I  should  be  left  in  peace  for  a  single  day, 
even  here,"  he  muttered  as  he  moved  toward  the 
stairs. 

To  reach  Frau  Johann's  best  sitting-room  (self- 
ishly occupied,  according  to  one  opinion,  by  the  gen- 


66  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

tlemen  absent  all  day  upon  the  mountains)  he  was 
obliged  to  pass  a  door  through  which  issued  unusual 
sounds.  Involuntarily  he  paused.  Someone  was 
striking  the  preliminary  chords  of  volkslied  on  his 
favourite  instrument,  a  Rhaetian  improvement  upon 
the  zither.  As  he  lingered,  listening,  a  voice  began 
to  sing — such  a  voice!  Softly  seductive  as  the  pur- 
ling of  a  brook  through  a  meadow ;  rich  as  the  deep- 
est notes  of  a  nightingale  in  its  first  passion  for  the 
moon. 

The  song  was  the  heart-broken  cry  of  an  old 
Rhaetian  peasant,  who,  lying  near  death  in  a  strange 
land,  longs  for  the  sunrise  light  on  the  mountain- 
tops  at  home,  more  earnestly  than  for  heaven. 

The  listener  did  not  move  until  the  voice  had  died 
into  silence.  He  knew,  though  he  could  not  see,  who 
the  singer  had  been.  It  was  impossible  for  the  fat 
lady  at  the  window,  or  the  thin  lady  with  the  Bae- 
deker, to  own  a  voice  like  that.  Only  one  there  was 
who  could  so  exhale  her  soul  in  the  perfume  of 
sound.  To  his  fancy,  it  was  like  hearing  the  fra- 
grance of  a  lily  breathed  aloud.  In  reality,  it  was 
Sylvia,  with  childish  vanity,  showing  off  her  pret- 
tiest accomplishment,  in  order  that  the  impression 
she  had  made  might  be  deepened. 

The  man  outside  the  door  had  heard  many  golden 
voices — golden  in  all  senses  of  the  word — but  never 
before  one  which  so  strangely  stirred  his  spirit, 
stirred  it  with  a  pain  that  was  bitter,  sweet  and  a 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  67 

vague  yearning  for  something  he  Had  never  known. 
If  he  had  been  asked  what  was  the  thing  for  which 
he  sighed,  he  could  not,  if  he  would,  have  told;  for 
a  man  cannot  explain  that  inner  part  of  himself 
which  he  had  never  even  tried  to  understand. 

Before  he  had  thought  of  moving,  the  beautiful 
voice,  no  longer  plaintive,  but  swelling  to  triumphant 
brilliancy,  broke  into  the  national  anthem  of  Rhaetia 
— warlike,  calling  her  sons  to  face  death  singing,  in 
her  defence.  It  was  as  if  a  rainbow  shower  of  dia- 
monds had  been  flung  into  the  sunshine,  and  the 
heart  of  the  man  who  stood  at  the  head  of  his  nation 
thrilled  with  the  response  that  never  failed. 

"She  is  an  Englishwoman,  yet  she  sings  the  Rhae- 
tian  music  as  I  have  never  known  a  Rhaetian  girl  to 
sing  it,"  he  told  himself,  slowly  passing  on  to  his 
own  door.  "She  is  a  new  type  of  woman  to  me.  A 
pity  that  she  is  not  a  Princess,  or  else — that  Maxi- 
milian and  Max  the  chamois-hunter  are  not  two. 
Still,  in  such  a  case,  the  chamois-hunter  would  be 
no  match  for  Miss  de  Courcy  of  London,  so  the 
weights  would  balance  in  the  scales  as  unevenly 
as  now." 

He  smiled,  and  sighed,  and  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders once  again.  Then  he  opened  the  door  of  his 
sitting-room,  to  forget  among  certain  documents 
which  urged  the  importance  of  immediate  return  to 
duty,  the  difference  between  Max  and  Maximilian, 
the  difference  between  women  and  women. 


68  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"Good-bye  to  the  mountains,  to-morrow  morn- 
ing/' he  said  to  his  chosen  comrades.  "Hey  for 
work  and  Salzbriick  again !" 

She  was  going  to  Salzbriick  in  a  few  days,  accord- 
ing to  Frau  Johann.  But  Salzbruck  was  not  Heili- 
gengelt,  and  Maximilian  the  Emperor  was  not,  at 
his  palace,  in  the  way  of  meeting  tourists.  It  was 
good-bye  to  Miss  de  Courcy  as  well  as  to  the  moun- 
tains. 

"She'll  never  know  to  whom  she  gave  her  ring," 
he  thought,  with  the  dense  innocence  of  a  man  who 
has  studied  all  books  save  women's  looks.  "And 
I'll  never  know  who  gives  her  a  plain  gold  one  for 
the  finger  on  which  she  once  wore  this." 

But  in  the  next  room,  divided  from  him  by  a  sin- 
gle wall,  sat  Princess  Sylvia  of  Eltzburg-Neuwald. 

"When  we  meet  again  at  Salzbriick,  he  must  never 
dream  that  I  knew  all  the  time,"  she  was  saying  to 
herself.  "Some  day  I  shall  long  to  confess.  But  I 
could  only  confess  to  a  man  who  excused,  because  he 
loved  me.  And  suppose  that  day  should  never 
come  ?" 


CHAPTER  V 

NOT   DOWN   IN   THE   PROGRAMME 

LETTERS  of  introduction  for  Lady  de  Courcy  and 
her  daughter  to  those  best  worth  knowing  among 
Rhaetia's  haute  noblesse  were  a  part  of  the  "plan" 
concocted  in  the  Richmond  garden — that  plan  which 
the  Grand  Duchess  had  seen  and  dreaded  in  Sylvia's 
shining  eyes. 

The  widow  of  the  Hereditary  Grand  Duke  of 
Eltzburg-Neuwald  was  reported  in  the  papers  to  be 
travelling  with  the  Princess  Sylvia  in  Canada  and 
the  United  States.  Fortunately  for  the  plot,  the 
elder  lady  had  spent  so  many  years  in  retirement  in 
England,  and  had,  even  in  her  youth,  met  so  few 
Rhaetians,  that  there  was  little  fear  of  any  embar- 
rassing contretemps.  Her  objections  to  the  uncon- 
ventional attempt  to  win  a  lover,  instead  of  resting 
content  with  a  mere  husband,  were  based  on  other 
grounds;  Sylvia  had  overcome  them,  nevertheless; 
and,  in  the  end,  the  Grand  Duchess  had  proved  not 
only  docile,  but  positively  fertile  in  expedient.  She 
it  was  who  had  suggested,  since  the  adoption  of  bor- 

69 


70  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

rowed  plumes  was  a  necessity,  that  de  Courcy,  her 
mother's  maiden  name,  should  be  chosen. 

One  friend  only  had  been  taken  into  Sylvia's  con- 
fidence, and  that  friend  was  a  lady  whose  husband 
had  been  British  Ambassador  to  the  Rhaetian  Court. 
She  knew  "everybody  who  was  anybody"  there,  and 
had  entered  with  a  fearful  joy  into  the  spirit  of  the 
escapade.  Exactly  how  it  was  to  end  she  did  not 
see ;  but,  so  far  as  she  was  concerned,  that  was  a  de- 
tail; and  she  had  written  for  Lady  de  Courcy  all 
the  letters  needful  as  an  open  sesame  to  the  Court. 

Sylvia  did  not  wish  to  hurry  away  from  Heiligen- 
gelt  to  Salzbriick,  even  though  the  inn  was  empty 
(save  for  her  own  small  party)  two  days  after  their 
arrival.  They  had  met :  the  rest  lay  on  the  knees  of 
the  gods.  And  since  the  best  sitting-room  was  now 
at  the  ladies'  disposal,  it  was  but  fair  to  Frau  Johann 
that  they  should  remain  for  a  time,  if  only  to  make 
use  of  it.  When  they  left  at  last,  after  a  stay  of  a 
week,  it  was  to  go  to  Salzbriick  for  the  great  fes- 
tivities which  were  to  mark  the  Emperor's  thirty- 
first  birthday,  an  event  enhanced  in  national  impor- 
tance by  the  fact  that  the  tenth  anniversary  of  his 
succession  would  fall  on  the  same  date.  On  the  day 
of  the  journey,  the  Grand  Duchess  had  a  headache 
and  was  cross. 

"I  don't  see  what  you've  accomplished  so  far  by 
this  mad  freak,"  she  said  fretfully  to  her  daughter, 
in  the  train  which  carried  them  away  from  Pitz- 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  71 

biihel.  "We've  been  perched  on  a  mountain-top,  like 
the  Ark  on  Ararat,  for  a  week,  our  marrow  freezing 
in  our  bones;  and,  after  all,  what  have  we  to  show 
for  it — unless  an  incipient  influenza?" 

Sylvia  had  nothing  to  show  for  it ;  at  least,  noth- 
ing that  she  meant  to  show;  but  in  a  little  scented 
silk  bag  which  nestled  against  her  heart  lay  a  tiny 
folded  piece  of  blotting-paper.  If  you  looked  at  its 
reflection  in  a  mirror,  you  saw,  written  twice  over, 
in  a  firm,  opinionated  hand,  the  name,  "Mary  de 
Courcy."  And  Sylvia  had  found  it  in  a  book  after 
Frau  Johann  had  made  the  best  sitting-room  ready 
for  new  occupants.  Therefore  she  loved  Heiligen- 
gelt;  therefore  she  thought  with  silent  satisfaction 
of  her  visit  there. 

To  learn  her  full  name  he  must  have  made  inqui— 
ries,  for  Miss  M'Pherson  had  not  uttered  it  on  their 
progress  down  the  mountain.  It  had  been  in  his 
thoughts,  or  he  would  not  have  committed  it  to  paper 
in  a  moment  of  idle  dreaming.  Through  all  her  life 
Sylvia  had  known  the  want  of  money,  but  now  she 
would  not  have  taken  a  thousand  pounds  for  the 
contents  of  the  silken  bag. 

Hohenburg  is  the  family  name  of  Rhaetia's  Em- 
perors; therefore  everything  in  Salzbriick  that  can 
be  Hohenburg  is  Hohenburg ;  and  it  was  at  the  Ho- 
henburgerhof,  Salzbriick's  grandest  hotel,  that  a 
suite  of  rooms  had  been  hired  for  Lady  de  Courcy's 
party. 


73  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

They  had  broken  the  journey  at  Wandeck;  and 
Sylvia  had  so  timed  it  that  they  should  arrive  in 
Salzbruck  an  hour  before  the  first  of  the  ceremonies 
on  the  birthday  eve — the  unveiling  by  the  Kaiser  of 
the  great  national  statue  of  Rhaetia  in  the  Maximil- 
ian Platz,  exactly  in  front  of  the  Hohenburgerhof. 
At  the  station  they  were  told  by  the  driver  of  their 
selected  droschky  that  he  would  not  be  able  to  take 
the  high,  well-born  ladies  to  the  main  door  of  the 
Hohenburgerhof,  for  the  passage  of  carriages  was 
forbidden  in  the  Maximilian  Platz,  where  the  crowd 
had  been  assembling  since  dawn  for  the  ceremony; 
and  that  he  would  be  compelled  to  deposit  them  and 
their  luggage  at  a  side  entrance. 

As  they  left  the  station,  from  far  away  came  a 
burst  of  martial  music,  a  military  band  playing  the 
national  air  which  the  chamois-hunter  had  heard  the 
English  girl  singing  at  Heiligengelt.  The  shops 
were  closed  for  the  day ;  from  nearly  every  window 
hung  a  flag  or  banner,  while  the  old  narrow  streets 
and  the  broad  new  streets  were  festooned  with  bunt- 
ing, wreaths  of  evergreen,  and  autumn  flowers. 
Prosperous  citizens  in  their  best,  peasants  in  gay  hol- 
iday attire,  streamed  towards  the  Maximilian  Platz. 
It  seemed  to  Sylvia  that  the  air  tingled  with  expecta- 
tion; she  thought  that  she  must  have  felt  the  mag- 
netic thrill  in  it,  even  if  she  had  shut  her  eyes  and 
ears. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  73 

"We  shall  be  in  time.  We  shall  see  tHe  ceremony 
from  our  windows,"  she  excitedly  said. 

But  at  the  hotel  she  encountered  a  keen  disap- 
pointment. With  many  apologies  the  landlord  ex- 
plained that  he  had  done  his  best  for  the  ladies  when 
he  received  their  letter  a  week  before,  and  that  he  had 
allotted  them  a  good  suite,  with  balconies,  overlook- 
ing the  river  at  the  back  of  the  house — the  situation 
considered  preferable  on  ordinary  occasions.  But, 
as  to  rooms  in  the  front,  it  was  impossible ;  they  had 
all  been  taken  more  than  six  weeks  in  advance;  one 
American  gentleman  was  paying  a  thousand  gulden 
for  an  hour's  use  of  a  small  balcony  leading  off  the 
drawing-room. 

Sylvia  was  pale  with  disappointment.  "I  will  go 
down  into  the  crowd  and  take  my  chance."  she  said 
to  her  mother  when  they  had  been  shown  into  the 
handsome  rooms,  so  satisfactory  in  everything  but 
situation. 

"My  dear — impossible!"  exclaimed  the  Grand 
Duchess.  "I  could  not  think  of  allowing  it.  Only 
fancy  what  a  crush  there  will  be — people  trampling 
on  each  other  for  places.  You  could  see  nothing." 

"But  I  couldn't  bear  to  stay  shut  up  here,"  pleaded 
Sylvia,  "while  that  music  plays  and  the  crowds  shout 
themselves  hoarse  for  the  Emperor.  Something  in- 
side me  seems  to  say  that  I  must  be  there.  And  Miss 
M'Pherson  and  I  will  take  care  of  each  other." 

Somehow — she  hardly  knew  how — consent  was  as 


74  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

usual  wrung  from  the  Grand  Duchess's  reluctance, 
the  only  stipulation  being  that  Sylvia  and  her  chap- 
eron should  keep  close  to  the  hotel,  returning  at  once 
if  they  found  themselves  borne  away  by  the  crowd. 

Their  rooms  were  on  the  first  floor,  and  the  girl 
hurried  down  the  broad  flight  of  marble  stairs,  with- 
out sending  for  the  lift,  Miss  M'Pherson  following 
upon  her  heels. 

They  could  not  get  out  by  the  front  door,  for 
people  had  paid  for  places  there,  and  would  not 
yield  an  inch  even  for  a  moment;  while  the  two  or 
three  steps  below  and  the  pavement  in  front  were 
closely  blocked. 

Matters  began  to  look  hopeless,  but  Sylvia  would 
not  yet  be  daunted.  They  tried  the  side  entrance, 
and  found  it  free,  the  street  into  which  it  led  being 
comparatively  empty;  but,  beyond,  where  it  joined 
the  great  open  square  of  the  Maximilian  Platz,  there 
was  a  solid  wall  of  human  beings. 

"We  might  as  well  go  back,"  said  Miss  M'Pher- 
son, who  had  not  Sylvia's  keenness  for  the  under- 
taking. She  was  comfortably  fatigued  after  the 
journey,  and  would  rather  have  had  a  cup  of  tea 
than  see  fifty  emperors  unveil  as  many  statues. 

"Look  at  that  man  just  ahead,"  whispered  the 
Princess ;  "he  doesn't  mean  to  go  back.  Let  us  keep 
close  behind  him,  and  see  what  he's  going  to  do.  He 
has  the  air  of  one  who  has  made  up  his  mind  to  get 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  75 

something  or  do  something,  which  he  won't  easily 
give  up." 

Miss  M'Pherson  brought  a  critical  gaze  to  bear 
upon  the  person  indicated.  He  was  striding  rapidly 
along,  a  few  yards  in  advance,  only  his  back  being 
visible;  but  it  was  a  singularly  determined  back; 
and  it  was  clad  in  a  grey  and  crimson  uniform.  On 
his  head  he  wore  a  cocked  hat,  adorned  with  an 
eagle's  feather,  fastened  by  a  gaudy  jewel.  As  Miss 
M'Pherson  observed  these  details,  she  noted  half 
unconsciously  that  the  man's  neck  between  the  collar 
of  his  coat  and  the  sleek  black  hair  was  yellow-white 
as  old  parchment. 

"He  looks  like  an  official  of  some  sort,"  she  re- 
marked. "Maybe  the  crowd  will  open  to  let  him 
through." 

"So  I  was  thinking,"  hopefully  responded  Sylvia. 
"And  when  the  crowd  opens  for  him,  if  we're  clever, 
it  may  open  for  us  too.  He's  a  hateful-looking  man, 
and  I  have  taken  a  dislike  to  him  without  a  sight  of 
his  face;  but  we  must  use  him  if  he  were  a  Cairene 
cyce." 

"He  really  i-s  going  through!"  exclaimed  Miss 
M'Pherson. 

They  were  close  upon  their  unconscious  pioneer 
now ;  and  as — in  peremptory  tones — he  informed  the 
human  wall  that  it  must  divide  to  let  him  pass  be- 
cause he  had  come  with  a  special  message  to  the  Lord 
Chancellor  from  the  Burgomaster,  the  Princess  Sy^l- 


76  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

via  of  Eltzburg-Neuwald  could  have  laid  her  hands 
upon  the  grey  shoulders,  epauletted  with  red. 

The  wall  obeyed,  evidently  recognising  the  author- 
ity of  his  uniform.  "It  must  be  the  secretary  of 
Herr  Hermann,  the  Burgomaster,"  Sylvia  heard  one 
man  murmur  knowingly  to  another.  "Something  of 
importance  has,  perhaps,  been  forgotten,  or  special 
news  has  been  received  and  must  be  reported." 

Good-naturedly  the  crowd  gave  way  for  the  new- 
comer; and,  to  Sylvia's  joy,  she  was  sucked  into  the 
whirlpool  in  his  wake.  Near  the  front,  people  would 
have  stopped  her  if  they  could,  knowing  that  she,  at 
least,  had  no  official  right  of  entrance;  but  at  the 
critical  instant  the  blue-and-silver  uniformed  band 
of  Rhaetia's  crack  regiment,  the  "Kaiser's  Own," 
struck  up  an  air  which  told  them  the  Emperor  was 
approaching.  Angry  ones  were  content  with  keeping 
out  the  tall,  thin  English  spinster  in  tweed,  hustling 
and  pushing  her  into  the  background,  when  she 
would  shrilly  have  protested  in  her  native  tongue 
that  "really,  really  she  must  be  allowed  to  pass  with 
her  friend!" 

The  man  who  had  announced  his  mission  from  the 
Burgomaster  must  have  felt  that  someone  pressed 
after  him  with  particularity,  for,  as  he  reached  the 
front  rank  of  the  densely  packed  pavement,  he 
wheeled  sharply  round.  Sylvia,  her  little  chin  al- 
most resting  on  his  shoulder,  met  his  gaze,  shrinking 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  77 

away  from  the  breath  that  swept  hot  across  her 
cheek. 

"Just  the  face  I  gave  his  back  credit  for,"  she 
thought  ungratefully.  "Sly  and  cruel,  brutal,  too — 
and,  how  curiously  pale !" 

A  pair  of  black  eyes,  small,  glassy,  with  a  peculiar 
flatness  of  the  cornea,  had  aimed  at  her  a  glance  of 
suspicion ;  and  she  seemed  still  to  feel  their  penetrat- 
ing stare,  when  the  face  was  turned  away  again. 
Having  obtained  his  desire — a  position  in  the  front 
rank  of  spectators,  and  incidentally  a  place  for  Sylvia 
too — the  man  in  grey  and  red  proceeded  to  take  from 
his  breast  a  roll  of  parchment,  tied  with  narrow  rib- 
bon and  sealed  with  a  crimson  seal. 

Sylvia,  standing  shoulded  to  shoulder  with  him, 
had  just  time  to  wonder  if  the  fellow  were  going  to 
read  some  proclamation,  when  a  great  cheer  arose 
from  thousands  of  throats;  men  waved  their  hats; 
peasant  women  held  up  their  children,  while  ladies 
threw  roses  from  the  decorated  balconies.  A  white 
figure  on  a  white  charger  came  riding  into  the 
square,  under  the  gay-coloured  triumphal  arch  of 
flags  and  flowers. 

Others  followed;  men  in  rich  dark  uniforms,  on 
coal-black  horses ;  yet  Sylvia  saw  only  one,  glittering 
white  from  head  to  foot,  like  hoar-frost  in  sunlight. 
Under  the  shining  helmet  of  steel,  the  earnest  face 
looked  clear-cut  as  cameo.  To  the  crowd  he  was  the 
Kaiser— 3  fine,  popular,  clever  young  man,  who 


78  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

ruled  his  country  well,  and,  above  all,  provided 
many  a  pleasing  spectacle ;  to  the  girl  he  was  an  ideal 
St.  George,  strong  and  brave  to  slay  all  modern  dra- 
gons, right  all  crying  wrongs. 

How  stately  and  splendid  he  looked,  controlling 
the  white  charger,  with  its  clanking  silver  trappings ; 
how  the  jewelled  orders  on  his  breast  sparkled,  as  he 
saluted  his  enthusiastic  subjects ! 

"What  if  he  should  never  love  me?"  Sylvia 
thought,  as  she  often  thought,  with  a  sharp,  jealous 
spasm  of  the  heart. 

Now  he  was  vaulting  from  his  horse,  while  men 
in  uniforms,  men  with  ribbons  and  decorations,  came 
forward,  bowing,  to  receive  him.  The  ceremony  of 
unveiling  the  statue  of  Rhaetia,  executed  by  one  of 
the  world's  most  famous  sculptors,  was  about  to 
begin. 

To  reach  the  great  crimson-draped  platform  on 
which  he  was  presently  to  take  his  stand,  the  Em- 
peror must  pass  within  a  few  yards  of  Sylvia.  His 
eyes  travelled  over  the  brightly  coloured  throng; 
what  if  they  should  fall  upon  her?  The  girl's  heart 
was  in  her  throat;  she  could  feel  it  beating  there; 
and  for  a  moment  the  tall  white  figure  was  lost  in  a 
mist  that  rose  before  her  eyes. 

She  had  forgotten  how  she  came  there — forgotten 
the  stranger  in  grey  and  red  to  whom  she  owed  her 
great  good  fortune;  when  suddenly,  while  the 
mist  was  at  its  thickest,  slie  grew  conscious  of  the 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  79 

man's  presence.  So  near  her  he  stood,  that  a  quick 
start,  a  gathering  of  his  muscles  for  a  spring,  flashed 
like  a  message  by  telegraph  through  her  own  body. 
The  mist  clouding  her  senses  was  burnt  up  in  the 
flame  of  a  strange  enlightenment — a  clarity  of  vision 
which  showed  not  only  the  hero  of  the  day,  the 
crowd,  and  the  man  beside  her,  but  the  guilty  soul 
of  that  man  as  well. 

"He  is  going  to  kill  the  Emperor !" 

It  was  as  if  a  voice  hissed  the  words  into  her  ears ; 
she  knew  now  why  she  had  struggled  to  win  this 
place,  why  she  had  succeeded,  what  she  had  to  do — 
or  die  in  failing  to  do. 

The  Emperor  was  not  half  a  dozen  yards  away. 
She  alone  had  felt  that  murderous  thrilling,  heard 
that  panting  breath ;  she  alone  guessed  what  the  roll 
of  parchment  hid. 

While  the  crowd  shouted  for  "Unser  Max !"  a  fig- 
ure, grey  and  red,  leapt  toward  the  white  one,  with 
clenched  hand  upraised,  something  sharp  and  bright 
catching  the  sun  in  a  streak  of  steely  light  as  it  rose 
and  fell. 

Maximilian  saw,  yet  not  in  time  to  swerve  aside. 
The  blade  swooped  hawk-like,  scenting  blood.  A 
second's  fraction,  and  it  would  have  drunk  deep — a 
Royal  draught ;  but  an  arm  struck  it  up ;  and  a  girl 
was  sobbing;  while  for  her  the  heavens  above  and 
the  earth  below  merged  together  in  whirling  chaos. 


80  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

The  man  in  red  and  grey  was  like  a  'fox  among 
the  hounds ;  and  the  crowd,  in  the  madness  of  sud- 
den rage,  would  have  rent  him  limb  from  limb,  de- 
spite the  cordon  of  police  that  quickly  gathered  round 
him;  but  the  Emperor's  ringing  voice  commanded 
instant  obedience.  Only  those  in  the  front  ranks, 
or  the  windows  above,  had  seen  the  attack  and  the 
unknown  girl's  intervention ;  yet  the  shouts  of  those 
who  had  witnessed  the  furious  rush  forward,  the 
shrieks  of  the  ladies  on  the  balconies,  flashed  the 
news  through  the  Maximilian  Platz  that  there  had 
been  an  attempt  on  the  Kaiser's  life.  That  little  yel- 
low man  in  the  Burgomaster's  red  and  grey — he  who 
had  pushed  past  everybody  on  the  pretence  of  official 
business — he  it  was  who  had  done  the  deed.  Kill 
him — kill  him! — trample  him  down,  tear  out  the 
vile  heart  of  him  and  fling  it  to  the  dogs !  What  of 
the  police  ?  This  is  not  their  affair,  but  the  people's 
— the  people  who  love  "Unser  Max"  and  would  die 
for  the  Kaiser.  Away  with  the  police! — but  no — 
silence,  silence  for  the  Kaiser.  What  is  that  he  is 
saying?  "My  people  shall  not  be  murderers;  let  the 
law  deal  with  the  madman — it  is  my  command. 
Three  cheers  for  the  lady  to  whom  your  Kaiser  owes 
his  life,  and  then  the  ceremonies  shall  go  on!" 

Three  cheers?  Three  times  three,  and  split  the 
skies  with  shouts  for  the  Kaiser.  How  the  women 
cry,  when  they  ought  to  be  laughing !  A  chance  now 
for  the  police  to  hurry  the  limp  thing  in  grey  and  red 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  81 

away  out  of  sight  and  off  to  prison,  for  everyone 
turns  to  the  Emperor,  just  saved  from  the  assassin's 
knife.  He  has  sprung  up  the  steps  of  the  great  crim- 
son-covered platform,  half  carrying,  half  leading,  a 
beautiful  pale  girl,  who  stifles  her  hysterical  sobbing 
and  tries  to  hide  the  blood  that  drips  from  a  wound 
in  her  arm.  Who  is  she  ?  Has  anyone  seen  her  be- 
fore? God  grant  it  is  a  Rhaetian  who  had  had  the 
good  fortune  and  the  courage  to  save  the  Emperor's 
life!  Yet  what  does  it  matter?  There  he  stands, 
well  and  unhurt,  holding  her  by  his  side,  that  all  the 
people  may  see  her  and  give  thanks.  She  is  worthy 
to  be  a  goddess  in  their  eyes;  the  radiance  of  her 
beauty — as  for  a  few  seconds  she  stands  gazing  up 
into  his  face,  then  hiding  hers  between  trembling 
hands — seems  supernatural.  It  is  only  for  a  moment 
that  they  see  her,  as  the  shouts  of  praise  to  Heaven, 
and  the  cheers  for  Maximilian  and  the  stranger  who 
saved  him,  drown  the  music  for  which  a  signal  has 
been  given;  for  the  programme  of  the  day  is  to  be 
finished  and  the  episode  to  be  set  aside. 

"God  keep  our  Kaiser!"  the  band  plays;  and,  as 
if  the  order  of  events  had  been  undisturbed,  the  cere- 
mony of  unveiling  the  statue  goes  on. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  HONOURS  OF  THE  DAY. 

IT  is  those  in  the  thick  of  battle  who  can  afterwards 
tell  least  about  it,  and  to  the  Princess  those  five 
potent  moments — the  most  tremendous,  the  most 
vital  of  her  life — were  in  memory  like  a  dream.  She 
had  felt  a  tigerish  quiver  run  through  the  body  of  a 
man  when  the  crowd  pressed  close  against  her;  in- 
stinct was  responsible  for  the  rest.  Vaguely  she  re- 
called later  that  she  had  run  forward  and  thrown  up 
the  arm  that  meant  to  strike;  an  impression  of  the 
knife,  as  the  light  struck  it,  alone  remained  vividly 
in  her  mind.  She  had  thought  of  the  thud  it  would 
make  in  falling,  of  the  life-blood  that  would  spout 
from  the  rent  in  the  white  coat,  among  the  jewels 
and  decorations.  She  had  thought  of  the  blankness 
of  existence  for  her  in  a  world  empty  of  Maximilian, 
and  she  had  known  that,  unless  she  could  save  him, 
it  would  be  far  better  to  die — then,  in  that  moment. 
More  than  this  she  had  not  thought  or  known. 
What  she  did  was  done  well-nigh  unconsciously, 

82 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  83 

and  she  seemed  to  wake  with  a  start  at  last,  to  hear 
herself  sobbing-,  and  to  feel  a  sharp  pain  in  her  arm. 

A  hundred  hands — not  quick  enough  to  save,  yet 
quick  enough  to  follow  the  lead  she  had  given — had 
fought  to  seize  the  assassin,  and  prevent  a  second 
blow ;  while  as  for  Sylvia,  her  work  done,  she  forgot 
everything  and  everyone  but  Maximilian. 

It  was  he  who  kept  her  from  falling,  as  the  knife 
aimed  at  his  heart  struck  her  arm ;  he  who  held  her, 
as  she  mechanically  clung  to  him,  half  fainting — 
brave  no  longer,  but  only  a  frightened,  weeping  girl. 

Sylvia  heard  him  speak  to  the  crowd — a  few 
words  that  rang  out  through  the  furious  babel  like 
a  cathedral  bell.  Still  he  held  her ;  and  she  went  with 
him  up  the  steps  of  the  red  platform,  because  his  arm 
compelled  her,  not  by  her  own  volition. 

She  hardly  understood  that  the  cheers  of  the  mul- 
titude were  for  her  as  well  as  for  him;  and  words 
separated  themselves  with  comprehensive  distinct- 
ness for  the  first  time,  when,  the  necessity  for  public 
action  over,  the  Emperor  turned  to  whisper  in  her 
ear.  "Thank  you — thank  you,"  he  said.  "You  are 
the  bravest  woman  in  the  world.  I  had  to  keep  them 
from  killing  that  coward,  but  now  I  can  say  to  you 
what  is  in  my  heart.  I  pray  Heaven  you  are  not 
much  hurt?" 

"Oh,  no,  not  hurt,  but  very  happy,"  breathed  Syl- 
via, hardly  knowing  what  she  said.  She  felt  like  a 
soul  without  a  body ;  what  could  it  matter  if  her  arm 


84  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

ached  or  bled  ?  The  Emperor  was  safe,  and  she  had 
saved  him — she! 

He  pointed  to  her  sleeve.  "The  knife  struck  you. 
I  would  that  I  could  go  with  you  myself,  when  you 
have  done  so  much  for  me.  Yet  duty  keeps  me  here ; 
you  understand  that.  Baron  von  Lynar  and  the 
Baroness  will  take  you  home  at  once.  They" — 

"But  I  would  rather  stay  and  see  the  rest,"  said 
Sylvia.  "I  am  quite  well  now,  so  that  I  can  go 
down  to  my  friend" — 

"If  you  stay,  you  must  stay  here,"  said  Maximil- 
ian. "After  what  you  have  done,  it  is  your  place." 

The  ladies  of  the  Court,  who  had  with  their  hus- 
bands been  waiting  to  receive  the  Emperor,  crowded 
round  her,  as  he  turned  to  them  with  an  expressive 
look  and  gesture.  A  seat  was  given  her ;  she  was  a 
heroine,  sharing  the  honours  of  the  day  with  its 
hero. 

There  was  scarcely  a  grand  dame  among  the  dis- 
tinguished company  on  the  Emperor's  platform  to 
whom  "Lady  de  Courcy"  and  her  daughter  had  not 
a  letter  of  introduction,  from  their  friend.  But  no 
one  knew  at  this  moment  of  any  other  title  to  their 
acquaintance  which  the  girl  possessed,  except  the 
right  conferred  by  her  deed.  All  smiled  on  her  with 
tearful  eyes,  though  there  were  some  who  would 
have  given  their  ten  fingers  to  have  had  her  praise 
and  credit  for  their  own. 

Sylvia  sat  through  the  ceremonies,  unconscious 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  85 

that  thousands  of  eyes  were  on  her  face,  aware  of 
little  that  went  on;  scarcely  seeing  the  statue  of 
Rhaetia,  whose  glorious  marble  womanhood  awak- 
ened the  enthusiasm  of  the  throng,  hearing  only  the 
short  stirring  speech  delivered  by  Maximilian. 

When  it  was  all  over — the  people  merely  waiting 
to  see  the  Emperor  ride  away  and  the  great  person- 
ages disperse,  while  the  music  played — Maximilian 
turned  once  more  to  Sylvia.  Everyone  was  listen- 
ing ;  everyone  was  looking  on,  and,  no  matter  what 
his  inclination,  his  words  could  be  but  few.  He 
thanked  her  again  for  her  courage,  and  for  remain- 
ing, as  if  that  had  been  a  favour  to  him ;  asked  where 
she  was  staying  in  town,  and  promised  himself  the 
pleasure  of  sending  to  inquire  for  her  health  during 
the  evening.  His  desire  would  be  to  call  at  once  in 
person,  but,  owing  to  the  programme  of  the  day  and 
those  immediately  following,  not  only  each  hour, 
but  each  moment,  would  be  officially  occupied.  These 
birthday  rejoicings  were  troublesome,  but  duty  must 
be  done.  And  then  Maximilian  finished  by  saying 
that  the  Court  physician  would  be  commanded  to  at- 
tend upon  her  at  the  hotel. 

With  this  and  a  chivalrous  courtesy  of  parting, 
he  was  gone  from  the  platform,  Baron  von  Lynar, 
the  Grand  Master  of  Ceremonies,  and  his  Baroness, 
having  been  told  off  as  the  fair  heroine's  escort 
home. 

At  another  time,  it  might  have  amused  the  mis- 


86  PRINCESS  SYLVIA1 

chief-loving  Sylvia  to  see  Baroness  von  Lynar's  sur- 
prise at  learning  her  identity  with  the  Miss  de 
Courcy  of  whom  she  had  heard  from  Lady  West. 
All  the  letters  of  introduction  had  reached  their  des- 
tination, it  only  remaining  (according  to  Rhaetian 
etiquette  in  such  matters)  for  Lady  de  Courcy  to 
announce  her  arrival  in  Salzbriick  by  sending  cards. 
But  Sylvia  had  no  thought  of  mischief  now.  She 
had  been  on  the  point  of  forgetting,  until  reminded 
by  necessity,  that  she  was  only  a  masquerader,  act- 
ing her  borrowed  part  in  a  pageant.  For  the  first 
time  since  she  had  voluntarily  taken  it  up,  that  part 
became  distasteful.  She  would  have  given  much  to 
throw  it  off,  like  a  discarded  garment,  and  be  herself 
again.  Nothing  less  than  absolute  sincerity  seemed 
worthy  of  this  day  and  its  event. 

But  in  the  vulgar  language  of  proverb,  which  no 
well-brought-up  Princess  should  ever  use,  she  had 
made  her  bed,  and  she  must  lie  in  it.  It  would  never 
do  for  her  to  suddenly  announce  that  she  was  not 
Miss  de  Courcy,  but  Princess  Sylvia  of  Eltzburg- 
Neuwald.  That  would  not  now  be  fair  to  her  mother, 
nor  to  herself ;  above  all,  it  would  not  be  fair  to  the 
Emperor,  handicapped  by  his  debt  of  gratitude. 
Miss  de  Courcy  she  was,  and  Miss  de  Courcy  she 
must  for  the  present  remain. 

Naturally,  the  Grand  Duchess  fainted  when  her 
daughter  was  brought  back  to  her,  bleeding.  But 
the  wound  in  the  round  white  arm  was  not  deep. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  87 

The  Court  physician  was  both  consoling  and  com- 
plimentary, and  by  the  time  that  messengers  from 
the  palace  had  arrived  with  inquiries  from  the  Em- 
peror and  invitations  to  the  Emperor's  ball,  the  hero- 
ine's mother  could  dispense  with  her  sal  volatile. 

She  had  fortunately  much  to  think  of.  There  was 
the  important  question  of  dress  (since  the  ball  was 
for  the  following  night)  ;  there  was  the  still  more 
pressing  question  of  the  newspapers,  which  must  not 
be  allowed  to  learn  or  publish  the  borrowed  name  of 
de  Courcy,  lest  complications  should  arise ;  and  there 
were  the  questions  which  had  to  be  asked  of  Sylvia. 
How  had  she  felt  ?  How  had  she  dared  f  How  had 
the  Emperor  looked,  and  what  had  the  Emperor 
said?  If  it  had  been  natural  for  the  Grand  Duchess 
to  faint,  it  was  equally  natural  that  she  should  not 
faint  twice.  She  began  to  see,  after  all,  the  hand  of 
Providence  in  her  daughter's  prank.  And  she  won- 
dered whether  Sylvia's  white  satin  with  seed  pearls 
or  the  gold-spangled  blue  tulle  would  be  more  be- 
coming for  the  balh 

Next  day  the  papers  were  full  of  the  dastardly  at- 
tack upon  the  Emperor  by  a  French  anarchist,  who 
had  disguised  himself  as  an  employe  in  the  official 
household  of  the  Burgomaster,  trusting  to  the  ab- 
straction of  the  crowd  at  the  last  moment  before  the 
ceremonies,  for  passing  undiscovered  and  accom- 
plishing his  murderous  design.  There  were  columns 
devoted  to  praise  of  the  extraordinary  courage  and 


88  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

beauty  of  the  young  English  lady,  who,  with  mar- 
vellous presence  of  mind,  had  sprung  between  the 
Emperor  and  his  would-be  assassin,  receiving  on 
her  own  arm  the  blow  intended  for  the  Imperial 
breast.  But,  thanks  to  a  few  earnestly  imploring 
words  spoken  in  Baron  von  Lynar*s  ear,  commands 
given  to  the  "Besitzer"  of  the  hotel,  and  the  fact  that 
Rhaetian  editors  are  not  yet  permitted  a  wholly  free 
hand,  the  young  English  lady  was  not  named.  She 
was  a  stranger;  she  was,  according  to  the  papers, 
"as  yet  unknown." 


CHAPTER  VII 

TEN  MINUTES'  GRACE 

NOT  a  window  of  the  fourteenth-century  yellow 
marble  palace,  in  its  famous  "garden  of  the  nine 
fountains,"  that  was  not  ablaze  with  light,  glittering 
against  a  far  dark  background  of  snow-capped 
mountains.  From  afar,  the  crowd  that  might  not 
pass  the  carved  lions  or  the  statuesque  sentinels  at 
the  gates,  stared,  and  pointed,  and  exclaimed,  with- 
out jealousy  of  their  betters.  "Unser  Max"  was 
giving  a  ball ;  it  was  for  them  to  watch  the  glittering 
line  of  state  coaches  and  neat  closed  carriages  that 
passed  in  and  out — striving  for  a  peep  at  the  faces, 
the  grand  uniforms  and  the  jewelled  dresses,  com- 
menting, laughing,  wondering  what  there  would  be 
for  supper  and  with  whom  the  Emperor  would 
dance. 

"There  she  is — there's  the  beautiful  young  lady 
who  saved  him!  Isn't  she  like  an  angel?"  cried  a 
girl  in  the  throng.  Up  went  a  hearty  cheer,  and  the 
police  had  to  keep  back  the  good-natured  flock  that 

89 


90  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

would  have  stopped  the  horses  and  pressed  forward 
for  a  long  look  into  a  plain  dark-green  brougham. 
Sylvia  shrank  out  of  sight  against  the  cushions, 
blushing  and  breathing  quickly,  as  she  pressed  her 
mother's  hand. 

"''Dear  people— dear,  kind  people,"  she  thought. 
"I  love  them  for  loving  him." 

She  had  chosen  to  wear  the  white  dress,  though 
up  to  the  last  minute  her  mother  had  hesitated  be- 
tween the  rival  merits  of  seed  pearls  and  gold  span- 
gles; and  her  beautiful  face  was  as  white  as  her 
gown,  as  the  two  ladies  passed  between  bowing  lack- 
eys into  the  palace,  through  the  great  marble  hall,  on 
through  the  Rittersaal,  to  the  throne-room,  where 
the  Emperor's  guests  awaited  his  coming. 

It  was  etiquette  for  no  one  to  arrive  later  than  ten 
o'clock ;  and  five  minutes  after  that  hour,  Baron  von 
Lynar,  in  his  official  capacity  as  Grand  Master  of 
Ceremonies,  struck  the  floor  thrice  with  his  ivory, 
gold-knobbed  wand.  This  signified  the  approach  of 
the  Court  from  the  Imperial  dinner  party,  and  Max- 
imilian entered,  with  a  singularly  plain  Russian 
Royal  Highness  on  his  arm. 

Until  the  moment  of  his  arrival  the  lovely  stranger 
(admitted  here  by  virtue  of  her  service  to  the  Em- 
peror) had  held  all  eyes ;  and  even  when  he  appeared 
she  was  not  forgotten.  Everyone  wished  to  see  how 
she  would  be  greeted  by  a  grateful  monarch. 

The  instant  that  his  proud  head — towering  above 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  911 

most  others — was  seen  in  the  throne-room,  it  was 
observed,  even  by  the  unobservant,  that  never  had 
Maximilian  been  so  handsome.  His  was  a  face  not- 
able for  strength  and  intellect  rather  than  any  con- 
ventional beauty  of  feature;  but  to-night  the  stern 
lines  that  sometimes  marred  his  forehead  were 
smoothed  away.  He  looked  young,  almost  boyish; 
there  was  an  eager  light  in  his  dark  eyes,  and  he 
gave  the  impression  of  a  man  who  had  suddenly 
found  a  new  interest  in  life. 

He  danced  the  first  dance  with  the  Russian  Roy- 
alty, who  was  the  most  important  guest  of  the  eve- 
ning, and,  still  rigidly  adhering  to  the  line  of  duty 
(which  obtains  in  Court  ballrooms  as  on  battle- 
fields), the  second,  third,  and  fourth  dances  were  for 
Maximilian  penances  rather  than  pleasures.  But 
for  the  fifth — a  waltz — he  bowed  low  before  Sylvia. 

Not  a  movement,  scarcely  a  smile  or  a  glance  of 
hers  that  he  had  not  seen,  since  his  eyes  first  sought 
and  found  her,  on  the  moment  of  his  entrance.  He 
had  noted  how  well  Baron  von  Lynar  carried  out 
his  instructions  regarding  Miss  de  Courcy ;  he  knew 
the  partners  who  were  presented  to  her  for  each 
dance,  and  to  save  his  life  or  a  national  crisis  he 
could  not  have  worn  the  same  expression  in  asking 
the  Russian  for  a  waltz  as  that  which  brightened  his 
face  in  approaching  Sylvia. 

"Who  is  that  girl?"  inquired  Count  von  Mark- 
stein  in  his  usual  gruff  manner,  as  the  arm  of  Max- 


92  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

imilian  circled  trie  slim  waist  and  the  eyes  of  Max- 
imilian rested  on  a  radiant  countenance  upturned  to 
his. 

It  was  of  Baroness  von  Lynar  that  the  Chancellor 
asked  his  question,  and  she  fluttered  a  diamond- 
spangled  fan  to  hide  smiling  lips,  as  she  answered, 
"What,  Chancellor — are  you  in  jest,  or  do  you  really 
not  know?" 

Count  von  Markstein  turned  his  cold  eyes  from 
the  two  figures,  so  close  together,  moving  rhyth- 
mically as  poetry — to  the  face  of  the  middle-aged 
beauty.  Once  he  had  admired  her  as  much  as  it  was 
in  his  nature  to  admire  any  woman;  but  that  day 
was  long  past,  and  now,  such  power  as  she  had  left 
over  him  was  merely  to  excite  a  feeling  of  irritation. 

"I  do  not  often  jest,"  he  answered  slowly. 

"Ah,  we  all  know  that  truly  great  men  have  sel- 
dom a  sense  of  humor!"  purred  the  Baroness,  who 
was  by  birth  an  Austrian,  and  loved  laughter  better 
than  anything  else  in  the  world — except  her  vanish- 
ing beauty.  "I  should  have  remembered,  and  not 
tried  your  patience.  'That  girl,'  as  you  somewhat 
brusquely  call  her,  is  the  English  Miss  de  Courcy, 
whose  mother  has  come  to  Salzbriick  armed  with 
such  sheaves  of  introductions  to  us  all.  And  she  it 
is  who  yesterday  saved  the  most  valued  life  in  the 
Empire.  They  are  staying  at  the  Hohenburgerhof ; 
I  thought  you  must  have  known." 

"I  did  not  see  the  young  lady's  face  yesterday," 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  93 

returned  the  Chancellor,  whose  indifference  to 
women  and  merciless  justice  to  both  sexes  alike  had 
early  earned  him  the  sobriquet  of  "Iron  Heart." 
"As  for  what  this  girl  did,  if  it  had  not  been  she  who 
intervened,  it  would  have  been  another.  It  was 
merely  by  a  chance  that  her  arm  struck  up  the  wea- 
pon first." 

"Do  you  not  think  that  His  Majesty  does  right 
to  single  her  out  for  so  much  honour?"  Baroness  von 
Lynar's  eyes  were  on  the  dancers,  yet  that  mysterious 
skill  which  some  women  have,  enabled  her  to  see 
the  slightest  change  of  expression  on  the  Chancel- 
lor's square,  lined  countenance. 

"His  Majesty  could  not  do  otherwise,"  he  replied. 
"An  inviation  to  a  ball ;  a  dance  or  two ;  a  call  to  pay 
his  respects ;  a  gentleman  could  not  be  less  gracious. 
And  His  Majesty  is  a  most  chivalrous  gentleman." 

"He  has  had  good  training."  This  with  a  smile 
and  the  dainty  ghost  of  a  bow  to  the  man  who  had 
been  as  a  second  father  to  Maximilian,  when  his 
own  father  had  died.  "But — we  are  old  friends, 
Chancellor"  (it  had  not  been  her  fault  that  they 
were  not  more,  in  the  days  before  she  was  Baroness 
von  Lynar)  ;  "do  you  really  think  it  will  end  with 
an  invitation,  a  dance,  and  a  call  ?  Look  at  the  girl's 
face,  and  tell  me  that?" 

Old  "Iron  Heart"  frowned  and  glared,  and  won- 
dered what  he  had  seen  twenty  years  ago  to  admire 
in  this  woman.  He  would  have  escaped  if  he  could, 


94  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

but  he  would  not  be  openly  rude  to  the  wife  of  the 
Grand  Master  of  Ceremonies;  and  besides,  he  was 
willing  perhaps  to  show  the  lady  that  her  innuendoes 
were  as  the  buzzing  of  a  fly  about  his  ears. 

"I  am  half-way  between  sixty  and  seventy,  and  no 
longer  a  judge  of  a  woman's  attractions,"  he  re- 
torted. "Even  were  she  Helen  herself,  the  invitation, 
the  dance,  and  the  call — with  the  present  of  some 
jewelled  souvenir,  perhaps — are  all  that  are  permis- 
sible in  the  circumstances." 

"What  circumstances?"  was  the  innocent,  ques- 
tioning reply. 

"The  young  lady  is  not  of  Royal  blood.  And  His 
Majesty — thank  God! — is  not  a  roue." 

"But  he  has  a  heart,  and  he  has  eyes.  He  may 
never  have  used  them  before.  Yet  there  must  al- 
ways be  a  first  time;  and  the  higher  and  more 
strongly  built  the  tower,  the  greater  the  fall  thereof." 

"Need  we  discuss  improbabilities,  Baroness  von 
Lynar  ?  Neither  you  nor  I  is  the  Emperor's  keeper." 

"We  are  his  friends — his  most  intimate  friends. 
And  you  and  I  have  known  each  other  for  twenty 
years.  It  amuses  me  to  discuss  what  you  call  'im- 
probabilities.' Come — for  once,  humour  me,  Chan- 
cellor. Not  for  the  world  would  I  hint  that  His 
Majesty  is  less  than  an  example  to  all  men,  in  hon- 
our ;  nor  would  I  suggest  that  Miss  de  Courcy  could 
be  tempted  to  indiscretion.  But  yet  I'd  be  ready  to 
wager — the  Emperor  being  human  and  the  girl  the 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  95 

most  dazzling  of  beauties — that  an  acquaintance  so 
romantically  begun  will  not  end  with  a  ball  and  a 
call!" 

"What  could  there  possibly  be  more,  madam — in 
honour  ?" 

The  Chancellor's  voice  shook  with  stifled  anger, 
and  he  looked — so  thought  his  quondam  friend — 
with  his  square  face,  his  wide  nostrils,  and  his  prom- 
inent eyes — delightfully  like  a  baited  bull.  The  Bar- 
oness von  Lynar  was  thoroughly  enjoying  herself. 
She  well  knew  the  old  man's  desire  for  the  Em- 
peror's marriage,  and,  though  she  was  not  in  the  se- 
cret of  his  plans,  would  have  felt  little  surprise  at 
learning  that  an  eligible  Princess  had  already  been 
selected.  What  fun  it  was  to  ruffle  the  temper  of  the 
surly  old  bear!  How  much  more  fun  it  would  be 
genuinely  to  alarm  him  for  the  success  of  his 
schemes ! 

"What  could  there  be  more  ?"  she  echoed.  "Why, 
they  will  see  much  of  each  other.  There  will  be  many 
dances,  many  calls — in  a  word,  a  serial  romance  in- 
stead of  a  short  story.  Why  should  His  Majesty 
not  know  the  pleasure  of  a  pure  platonic  friendship 
with  a  beautiful  young  woman?" 

"Because  Plato  is  out  of  fashion,  and,  as  I  have 
said,  the  Emperor  is  a  man  of  honour,"  growled  the 
Chancellor.  "Even  if — which  I  doubt — a  woman 
could  deeply  influence  his  life" — 


96  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"You  doubt  that  ?  Then  you  don't  know  the  Em- 
peror !" 

"If  it  were  so,  when  he  felt  the  danger  he  would 
keep  aloof  for  the  woman's  sake.  You  tell  me  this 
English  miss  is  at  an  hotel  in  Salzbruck.  What 
would  be  said  if  Maximilian  continually  visited  her 
there?  To  meet  her  incognito  would  be  an  insult. 
For  the  Emperor  of  Rhaetia  to  call  upon  a  young 
woman  day  after  day  at  the  Hohenburgerhof  would 
bring  a  storm  of  scandal  about  her  ears.  That  would 
be  but  poor  reward  for  the  young  woman  who  saved 
his  life." 

Baroness  von  Lynar  flushed  faintly,  under  the 
delicate  apology  of  her  rouge.  For  the  fraction  of 
a  second  she  looked  rather  blank,  for  she  had  in- 
sisted upon  the  argument,  and  it  was  going  against 
her.  She  had  not  stopped  to  view  the  question  from 
every  side,  in  her  haste  to  annoy  the  Chancellor.  So 
far  she  had  only  vexed  him.  She  owed  him  a  great 
deal  more  than  a  petty  stab  of  vexation — a  debt 
which  during  twenty  years,  she  had  been  repaying 
in  small  instalments.  If  she  could  prove  her  point 
now — or  rather,  if  Maximilian  would  prove  it  for 
her,  and  she  could  wipe  the  slate  clean  once  and  for 
ever  from  the  obligations  of  revenge,  it  would  be 
something  to  live  for.  Yet  how  was  that  to  be  done, 
since  Count  von  Markstein  was  in  the  right  about 
his  Imperial  master? 

But  the  wife  of  the  Grand  Master  of  Ceremonies 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  97 

was  a  woman  of  resource.  The  cloud  on  her  still 
handsome  face  gradually  lifted,  and  she  beamed 
more  brightly  than  before.  The  little  pin-point  prick 
she  had  inflicted  need  not  be  an  anti-climax  after  all. 

"Dear  Chancellor,  how  well  you  know  His  Maj- 
esty !"  she  ejaculated.  "If — being  but  a  young  man, 
and  a  hot-blooded  one,  despite  his  high  principles 
and  his  former  indifference  to  women — he  should 
not  stop  to  count  the  cost  for  himself,  you  would  no 
doubt  take  advantage  of  your  warm  friendship  to  re- 
mind him?" 

"I  should  indeed  do  so,"  said  the  Chancellor 
grimly,  "were  there  the  slightest  chance  of  such  ne- 
cessity arising." 

"It  is  but  a  piece  with  your  well-known  integrity 
and  courage.  What  a  comfort,  therefore,  that  the 
necessity  is  unlikely  to  arise !" 

The  old  man  stared  her  in  the  face.  "I  must  have 
misunderstood  you,"  he  sneered.  "I  thought,  in 
your  opinion,  the  opposite  conclusion  was  fore- 
gone ?" 

"But" — (and  the  Baroness  smiled  her  most 
charming  smile)  "suppose  that  Lady  de  Courcy  and 
her  daughter  were  not  remaining  at  the  hotel?" 

The  Chancellor's  cold  eyes  brightened — for,  in 
reality,  she  had  given  him  an  uneasy  moment.  "Ah 
then  they  are  going  away?" 

"I  hear,"  returned  Baroness  von  Lynar  slowly, 
pleasantly,  and  distinctly,  "that  they  have  been  asked 


98  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

to  the  country  to  visit  one  of  His  Majesty's  oldest 
and  most  intimate  friends." 

Maximilian  was  said  not  to  care  for  dancing, 
though  he  danced  well — as  it  was  his  pride  to  excel 
in  everything  worth  doing.  Certainly  there  was 
usually  a  perfunctoriness  about  his  manner  in  a  ball- 
room, a  suggestion  of  a  man  on  duty,  in  his  grave 
face,  his  readiness  to  lead  a  partner  to  her  seat  when 
a  dance  was  over. 

But  to-night !  The  white  arm  on  his — the  girlish 
arm  that  had  been  firm  as  a  man's  in  his  defence; 
the  perfume  of  her  hair,  and  the  glamour  of  the  light 
upon  it;  the  beating  of  her  heart  near  his  as  they 
danced — (or  did  he  only  fancy  that  he  felt  it?)  ; 
the  glory  of  her  eyes,  when  they  were  lifted  from  a 
wonder-shadow  of  lashes;  the  lissom  grace  of  her 
girlhood,  contrasting  with  the  voluptuous  summer 
of  Rhaetian  types  of  beauty;  the  rose  flush  that 
spread  and  spread  from  her  cheeks  to  the  Madonna 
arch  of  her  brows,  as  he  looked,  because  he  could  not 
help  looking! — To-night  was  different  from  any 
other  night,  because  she  was  different  from  any  other 
woman;  Maximilian  fancied  that  an  accident  had 
befallen  the  musicians  when  the  music  for  that  waltz 
came  suddenly,  as  it  seemed,  to  an  end. 

At  the  Rhaetian  Court  there  was  always  a  stately 
interval  of  ten  minutes  after  each  dance.  But  what 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  99 

are  ten  minutes  to  a  man  who  has  things  to  say 
which  could  not  be  said  in  ten  hours? 

They  had  hardly  spoken  yet — since  tKe  day  on  the 
mountain ;  and,  at  this  moment,  each  was  wondering 
whether  or  no  the  memory  of  that  day  should  be  ig- 
nored. Maximilian  did  not  intend  to  speak  of  it; 
Sylvia  did  not  intend  to  speak  of  it.  But  then,  how 
few  matters  turn  out  as  people  plan ! 

Next  to  the  throne-room  was  the  ballroom;  and 
beyond  was  another  called  the  "Waldsaal."  Max- 
imilian had  had  this  fitted  up  for  his  own  pleasure ; 
and  it  was  named  the  "Waldsaal"  because  it  repre- 
sented a  forest.  Walls  and  ceiling  were  skilfully 
covered  with  thickly  growing  creepers,  trained  over 
invisible  wires,  through  which  peeped  stars  of  elec- 
tric light,  like  the  checquers  of  sunshine  that  stray 
between  netted  branches.  There  were  realistic  grot- 
toes of  dark  rock,  growing  trees  planted  in  huge 
boxes  hidden  by  ivy;  while  here  and  there,  out  of 
shadowed  corners,  glared  the  glassy  eyes  of  birds 
and  animals — eagles,  bears,  stags,  and  chamois — 
that  the  Emperor  had  shot.  This  room,  so  vast  as  to 
appear  empty  when  dozens  of  people  wandered  un- 
der its  trees  and  among  its  rock  grottoes,  was  thrown 
open  to  the  dancers  whenever  a  ball  was  given  at  the 
palace;  and,  because  of  its  novel  and  curious  effect, 
it  was  more  popular  than  the  conservatories  and 
palm-houses.  It  was  here  that  Maximilian  led  Syl- 
via after  their  waltz ;  and  as  she  laid  her  hand  upon 


100  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

his  arm,  an  almost  overmastering  desire  seized  him 
to  kiss  the  long  white  glove,  upon  the  wound  she  had 
received  for  him. 

"This  is  madness,"  he  said  to  himself.  "It  must 
pass."  And  aloud,  meaning  to  say  something  else — 
something  courteous  and  commonplace,  he  ex- 
claimed, "Why  did  you  do  it?" 

Sylvia  glanced  up  at  him  in  surprise. 

"I  don't  understand."  And  then,  in  an  instant, 
well-nigh  before  the  words  were  out,  she  did  under- 
stand. She  knew  that  he  had  not  intended  to  ask 
the  question ;  but,  having  spoken,  it  was  characteris- 
tic of  him  to  stand  by  his  guns. 

"I  mean — the  thing  I  shall  have  to  thank  you  for 
always,"  he  replied. 

If  Sylvia  had  been  given  time  to  think,  she  might 
have  prepared  an  answer.  But,  given  no  time,  she 
told  only  the  bald  truth.  "I  couldn't  help  it." 

He  looked  straight  into  her  eyes.  "You  couldn't 
help  risking  your  life  to" —  He  did  not  finish. 

"It  was  to  save" —  Her  words  also  died  incom- 
plete. 

Then  it  was  that  he  forgot  various  restrictions  of 
etiquette  which  an  Emperor,  in  conversing  with  a 
commoner — be  the  commoner  man  or  woman — is 
not  supposed  to  neglect. 

For  one  thing,  his  voice  grew  unsteady,  and  his 
tone  was  eager  as  that  of  some  ineligible  subaltern 
with  the  girl  of  his  first  love. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  101 

"There  is  something  I  should  like  to  show  you," 
he  said.  Opening  a  button  of  the  military  coat, 
blazing  with  jewels  and  orders,  he  drew  out  a  loop 
of  thin  gold  chain.  At  the  end  dangled  some  small 
object  that  flashed  under  a  star  of  electric  light. 

"My  ring!"  exclaimed  Sylvia  in  a  breathless  whis- 
per. 

Thus  perished  the  Emperor's  intention  to  ignore 
the  day  that  had  been  theirs  in  the  past. 

"Your  ring.  You  gave  it  to  Max ;  he  has  kept  it. 
He  will  always  keep  it.  Are  you  surprised?" 

Sylvia  wished  to  say  "Yes,"  but  instead  she  an- 
swered "No,"  because  pretty  fibs  require  prepara- 
tion ;  it  is  only  the  truth  that  speaks  itself. 

"You  are  not?    Then — you  guessed,  yesterday?" 

"I  knew — at  Heiligengelt.  But  I  wish  I  need  not 
tell  you." 

Silence  between  them  for  a  moment,  while  Max- 
imilian digested  her  answer,  slowly  realising  what  it 
meant.  He  remembered  the  bread  and  ham ;  the 
cow,  and  the  rucksacks;  he  remembered  everything 
— and  laughed  out,  boyishly. 

"You  knew,  at  Heiligengelt!  But  not  on  the 
mountain  when" — 

"Yes,  I  knew  even  then.  It  was  only  a  chance — 
the  same  adventure  might  have  happened  to  hun- 
dreds of  people  without  their  guessing.  But  I  had 
— happened  to  hear  that  you  went  there  sometimes, 


102  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

and  I  had  seen  many  of  your  pictures — so,  when  I 
met  a  man,  I — oh,  I  wish  you  had  not  asked  me !" 

"Why?" 

"Because — one  might  have  to  be  afraid  of  an  Em- 
peror if  he  were  angry." 

"Do  I  look  angry?" 

Their  eyes  met,  and  dwelt,  laughing  at  first,  then 
probing  unexpected  depths  which  drove  away  all 
thought  of  laughter.  Something  that  seemed  alive 
and  independent  of  control  leapt  in  Maximilian's 
breast.  He  shut  his  lips  tightly.  Both  forgot  that 
a  question  had  been  asked,  though  it  was  Sylvia  who 
spoke  first, — since  it  is  easier  for  a  woman  than  a 
man  to  hide  feeling  behind  conventionality. 

"I  wonder  you  kept  the  ring  after — all  my  rude- 
ness." 

"I  had  a  special  reason  for  keeping  the  ring." 

"Will  you  tell  it  me?" 

"You  are  quick  at  forming  conclusions,  Miss  de 
Courcy.  Can't  you  guess?" 

"To  remind  you  never  to  help  strange  young 
women  on  mountains?" 

"No — not  for  that." 

"I  am  not  to  ask  the  reason?" 

"On  that  day  you  asked  what  you  chose.  All  the 
more  should  you  do  so  now,  since  there  is  nothing  I 
could  refuse  you." 

"Not  the  half  of  your  kingdom — like  the  Royal 
men  in  fairy  stories  ?" 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  103 

The  light  words  struck  a  chord  they  had  not 
aimed  to  touch.  They  went  echoing  on  and  on,  till 
they  reached  that  inner  part  of  himself  which  the 
Emperor  knew  least — his  heart.  Half  his  kingdom  ? 
Yes,  he  would  give  it  to  her,  if  he  could.  Heavens ! 
what  such  a  partnership  would  be! 

"Ask  anything  you  will,"  he  said,  as  a  man  speaks 
in  a  dream. 

"Then  tell  me — why  you  kept  the  ring?" 

"Because  the  only  woman  I  ever  cared — to  make 
my  friend,  took  it  from  her  ringer  and  gave  it  to 
me." 

"Now  the  Emperor  is  pleased  to  pay  compli- 
ments." 

"You  don't  think  that,  really?  You  know  I  am 
sincere." 

"But  you  had  only  seen  me  for  an  hour.  Instead 
of  meriting  your  friendship,  I  had,  on  the  con- 
trary"— 

"For  one  hour?  How  long  ago  is  that  hour?  A 
week  or  so,  I  suppose, — as  time  counts.  But  then 
came  yesterday,  and  the  thing  you  did  for  me.  Now 
I  have  known  you  always." 

"If  you  had,  perhaps  you  would  not  want  me  for 
your  friend." 

"I  do  want  you." 

The  words  would  come.  It  was  true — already 
true.  He  did  want  her.  But  not  only  as  a  friend. 


104.  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

His  world,  a  world  without  women  or  passion  ardent 
enough  to  eclipse  principles,  was  upside  down. 

It  was  well  that  the  ten  minutes'  grace  between 
dances  was  over,  the  music  for  the  next  about  to  be- 
gin. A  young  officer,  Count  von  Markstein's  half- 
brother,  who  was  to  be  Sylvia's  partner,  came  toward 
her,  then  stepped  back,  seeing  that  she  was  with  the 
Emperor.  But  Maximilian  permitted  his  approach, 
with  a  gesture. 

"Good-bye,"  said  Sylvia,  while  her  words  could 
still  only  be  heard  by  the  ears  for  which  they  were 
intended. 

"Not  good-bye — we  are  to  be  friends.'* 

"Yes,  in  heart.    But — we  shall  not  often  meet." 

"Are  you  going  from  Salzbriick  soon,  then?" 

"Perhaps." 

"I  must  see  you.  I  will  see  you — once  more, 
whatever  comes !" 

"Yes.    Once  more,  but" — 

"After  that"— 

"Who  knows? — Captain  von  Markstein? — Yes, 
it  is  our  dance." 

"Once  more — once  more!"  The  words  lingered 
in  Sylvia's  ears.  She  heard  them  through  every- 
thing, as  one  hears  the  undertone  of  a  mountain  tor- 
rent, though  a  brass  band  brays  out  some  martial  air 
to  drown  its  music. 

Once  more  he  would  see  her.     She  could  guess 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  105 

why  it  might  be  only  once,  even  if  he  would  fain 
have  had  it  more.  This  game  of  hers,  begun  with 
such  a  light  heart,  was  more  difficult  to  play  than 
she  had  dreamed.  If  she  could  be  but  sure  that  he 
cared;  if  he  would  tell  her  this,  in  words,  the  rest 
might  be  easy ;  though,  even  so,  she  did  not  quite  see 
how  the  end  should  come.  Yet  how,  in  honour,  could 
he  tell  her  that  he  cared  ?  While,  if  he  told  her  in 
any  other  way,  how  could  she  bear  her  life?  "Once 
more!"  What  would  happen  in  that  once  more? 
Surely  nothing  but  a  repetition  of  grateful  thanks 
and  courteous  words,  equivalent  to  farewell. 

To  be  sure,  Miss  de  Courcy  and  her  mother  might 
go  away,  and  the  negotiations  between  the  Emperor's 
advisers  and  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Eltzburg-Neu- 
wald  for  her  daughter's  hand  could  be  allowed  to 
continue,  as  if  no  outside  influence  had  ruffled  the 
peaceful  current  of  events.  Then,  in  the  end,  a  sur- 
prise would  come  for  Maximilian;  wilful  Princess 
Sylvia  would  have  had  her  little  romance,  and  all 
might  be  said  to  end  well.  But  something  within 
Sylvia's  fast-beating  heart  refused  to  be  satisfied 
with  so  comparatively  tame  a  last  chapter,  a  finis  so 
obvious.  She  had  tasted  a  sweet,  stimulating 
draught — she  who  had  been  brought  carefully  up  on 
milk  and  water — and  she  was  loth  to  put  the  cup 
down,  still  half  full  and  sparkling. 

"Once  more!"    If  only  that  once  could  be  magni- 


106  PRINCESS  SYLVIA! 

fied  into  many  times ;  if  she  could  have  her  chance — 
her  "fling,"  like  other  girls! 

So  she  was  thinking  in  the  carriage,  by  her 
mother's  side,  driving  back  to  the  Hohenburgerhof 
from  the  palace ;  and  the  Grand  Duchess  was  forced 
to  speak  twice  before  her  daughter  became  aware 
that  silence  had  been  broken. 

"I  forgot  to  tell  you  something,  Sylvia." 

"Ye— es,  mother?" 

"Your  great  success  has  made  me  absent-minded, 
child.  You  looked  like  a  shining  white  lily  among 
all  those  handsome  overblown  Rhaetian  women." 

"Thank  you,  dear.  Was  that  what  you  forgot 
to  say?" 

"Oh,  no !  It  was  this.  The  Baroness  von  Lynar 
has  been  most  kind.  She  urges  us  to  give  up  our 
rooms  at  the  hotel,  on  the  first  of  the  week,  and  join 
her  house  party  at  Schloss  Lynarberg.  It  is  only  a 
few  miles  out  of  town.  What  do  you  think  of  the 
plan?" 

"Leave — Salzbriick  ?" 

"She  has  asked  a  number  of  friends — to  meet  the 
Emperor." 

"Oh !    He  did  not  speak  of  it — wrien  we  danced." 

"But  she  has  mentioned  it  to  him  since,  no  doubt 
— before  giving  the  invitation.  Intimate  friend  of 
his  as  she  is,  she  would  not  dare  to  ask  people  to  meet 
him,  if  he  had  not  first  sanctioned  the  suggestion. 
Still,  she  can  afford  to  be  more  or  less  informal.  The 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  107 

Baroness  was  dancing  with  the  Emperor,  I  remem- 
ber now,  just  before  she  came  to  me.  They  were 
talking  together  quite  earnestly.  I  can  recall  the  ex- 
pression of  his  face." 

"Was  it  pleased,  or" — 

"I  was  wondering  what  she  had  said  to  make  him 
look  so  happy.  Perhaps" — 

"What  answer  did  you  give  Baroness  von  Ly- 
nar?" 

"I  told  her — I  thought  you  wouldn't  mind — I  told 
her  that  we  would  go." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE    BEAR   IN    HIS   DEN 

SCHLOSS  LYNARBERG  stands  high  on  a  promontory 
overlooking  a  lake,  half  a  dozen  miles  to  the  south 
of  Salzbriick.  The  castle  is  modern,  with  pointed 
turrets  and  fretted  minarets,  and,  being  built  of  mar- 
ble, throws  a  dazzling  reflection,  like  a  great  sub- 
merged swan,  into  the  blue  waters  of  the  Kaisersee. 
Everything  about  the  place,  from  its  tropical  gar- 
dens to  its  terraced  roofs,  suggests  luxury,  gaiety, 
pleasure. 

On  the  opposite  bank  of  the  lake  frowns  the  an- 
cient fortified  stronghold  of  the  Counts  von  Mark- 
stein,  squatting  on  its  rocky  base  like  a  huge  black 
dragon  on  the  coils  of  its  own  tail.  Its  small,  deep- 
set  windows  glare  across  the  bright  waters  at  the 
white  splendour  of  Lynarberg,  like  the  jealous  eyes 
of  the  monster  waiting  its  chance  to  spring  upon 
and  devour  a  beautiful  young  maiden. 

The  moods  of  Baroness  von  Lynar,  regarding 
dark  old  Schloss  Markstein,  had  varied  during  her 

108 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  109 

residence  by  the  lake.  Sometimes  she  pleased  her- 
self by  reflecting  that  the  man  who  had  slighted  her 
lived  in  less  luxury  than  she  had  made  her  own. 
Again,  the  thought  that  "the  old  bear"  could  crouch 
in  his  den  and  observe  all  that  went  on  at  Lynar- 
berg,  got  upon  her  nerves.  She  could  have  shrieked 
and  shaken  her  fist  at  the  huddled  mass  of  stone 
across  the  water.  But,  during  the  first  days  of  the 
Emperor's  visit  at  her  house,  she  often  glanced  at 
the  grim  outlines  of  the  castle,  and  smiled. 

"Can  you  see,  old  bear?"  she  would  say  to  her- 
self. "Are  you  watching,  over  there?  Do  you  guess 
now  who  is  responsible  for  the  growth  of  this  love- 
flower  you'd  stick  your  claws  into  and  tear,  if  you 
could?  But  you  can't,  you  know.  There's  nothing 
you  can  do, — nothing  but  sit  there  and  growl,  and 
realise  that  you've  been  outwitted  for  once — by  a 
woman,  too.  How  do  you  like  the  prospect,  old 
bear  ?  Do  you  lie  awake  at  night  and  wonder  what's 
to  become  of  your  fine  schemes  for  the  Emperor's 
marriage?  After  all,  there  are  some  things  which 
can  be  done  by  a  woman  with  tact  and  money,  pleas- 
ant houses  and  an  easy-going  husband,  that  the  clev- 
erest of  statesmen  can't  undo.  Will  you  admit  so 
much  at  last,  old  grisly  one?" 

Thus  the  Baroness  would  amuse  herself  at  odd 
moments,  when  she  was  not  busily  arranging  original 
and  elaborate  entertainments  for  her  guests.  And 
she  rejoiced  especially  at  having  had  the  forethought 


110  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

to  invite  Otto  von  Markstein,  the  Chancellor's  half- 
brother.  There  was  a  barrier  of  nearly  thirty-five 
years'  difference  in  age  between  the  two  men,  and 
they  had  never  been  friends,  for  the  elder  was  tem- 
peramentally unable  to  sympathise  with  the  tastes  or 
understand  the  temptations  of  the  younger.  But  it 
was  whispered  at  Court  that  the  Chancellor  had 
more  than  once  used  the  gay  and  popular  captain 
of  cavalry  for  a  cat's  paw  in  pulling  some  very  big 
chestnuts  out  of  the  fire,  and  that  he  would  do  the 
same  again,  if  occasion  arose.  "Handsome  Otto" — 
so  known  among  his  admirers — "The  Chancellor's 
Jackal" — thus  nicknamed  by  his  enemies — would 
have  found  difficulty  in  keeping  up  appearances  with- 
out the  allowance  granted  by  his  brother.  The  ill- 
assorted  pair  were  often  in  communication,  and  the 
Baroness  liked  to  think  that  news  fresh  from  Lynar- 
berg  must  sooner  or  later  be  wafted  across  the  water 
to  Markstein.  "Iron  Heart"  would  hear  of  that 
which  his  iron  hand  was  powerless  to  crush;  and 
the  old  bear  would  be  ready  to  devour  himself  in 
impotent  fury. 

Therefore  she  was  not  surprised,  when  the  Em- 
peror had  been  for  two  days  at  Lynarberg,  and  there 
were  still  three  more  of  his  visit  to  run,  that  an 
urgent  letter  should  arrive  for  Captain  von  Mark- 
stein from  the  Chancellor. 

Poor  old  Eberhard  was  wrestling  with  his  enemy, 
gout,  it  appeared,  and  desired  Otto's  immediate  pres- 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  111 

ence.  Suchi  a  summons  could  not  be  neglected; 
Otto's  whole  future  depended  on  his  brother's  cap- 
rice, he  hinted  to  the  Baroness,  in  asking  leave  to 
desert  her  pleasant  party  for  a  few  hours.  And  so 
she  had  sent  the  Chancellor  her  regards,  regretting 
his  indisposition;  and  Otto  had  been  charged  with 
a  friendly  message  from  the  Emperor  as  well.  When 
he  had  driven  off  in  one  of  the  Lynarberg  carriages, 
promising  to  be  back  in  time  for  dinner  and  a  concert 
in  the  evening,  the  Baroness  spent  all  her  energies  in 
getting  up  an  impromptu  riding  party,  which  would 
afford  Maximilian  the  chance  of  another  tete-a-tete 
with  Miss  de  Courcy. 

Already  many  such  had  been  arranged,  appar- 
ently without  giving  rise  to  gossip ;  and  if  the  flirta-* 
tion  (which  was  to  disgust  Maximilian  with  the 
Chancellor's  matrimonial  projects)  did  not  progress 
with  startling  rapidity,  it  would  not  be  the  fault  of 
an  accommodating  hostess. 

"Otto  has  been  bidden  to  use  his  eyes  and  ears  at 
my  house,  and  now  he  is  called  upon  to  hand  in  his 
report,"  she  said  to  herself,  when  her  guest  had  de- 
parted on  his  errand  of  compassion.  But,  for  once 
at  least  in  his  career,  the  "Chancellor's  Jackal"  was 
wronged  by  unjust  suspicions.  He  arrived  at  Mark- 
stein  ignorant  of  his  brother's  motive  in  sending, 
though  he  did  not  for  an  instant  believe  it  to  be  the 
one  alleged. 

The  Chancellor  was  in  his  dark,  octagonal  study, 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

reading  a  budget  of  letters,  when  Otto  was  an- 
nounced. If  he  were  ill  he  did  not  show  his  suffer- 
ing. His  square  face,  with  its  beetling  brows,  its 
domelike  forehead,  was  graven  with  no  deeper  lines, 
looked  no  more  like  a  mask  of  carved  mahogany, 
than  usual. 

"Sit  down,"  he  said  gruffly,  flinging  aside  an  en- 
velope postmarked  Abruzzia.  "I  shall  be  ready  to 
talk  with  you  in  a  minute." 

Otto  took  the  least  uncomfortable  chair  in  the 
room — which  was  saying  but  little  in  its  favour,  as 
the  newest  article  of  furniture  there  had  been  made 
a  hundred  years  before  the  world  understood  the  lux- 
ury of  lounging.  Over  the  high  mantel  hung  a  sil- 
ver shield,  so  brightly  polished  as  to  perform  the 
office  of  a  mirror.  From  where  Otto  sat.  rigid  and 
upright,  he  could  see  himself  vignetted  in  reflection. 
He  admired  his  complexion,  which  was  like  a  girl's ; 
pointed  the  ends  of  his  fair  moustache  with  nervous 
cigarette-stained  fingers,  and  wondered  ruefully 
which  of  his  pleasant  peccadilloes  had  buzzed  to  Eb- 
erhard's  ears.  Half  unconsciously  his  gaze  turned 
from  his  own  agreeable  image  to  the  outer  page  of 
the  letter,  held  in  the  hand  so  veined  that  it  re- 
sembled a  surface  of  rock  covered  with  the  sprawling 
roots  of  old  trees.  Otto  had  just  time  to  recognise 
the  writing  as  that  of  the  Crown  Prince  of  Abruz- 
zia, whom  he  had  met,  when  a  pair  of  keen  eyes,  cur- 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  113 

tained  with  wrinkled  lids,  peered  over  the  crested 
sheet  of  paper. 

"It's  coming,"  thought  Otto.  "What  can  the  old 
curmudgeon  have  found  out?" 

But,  to  his  surprise,  the  Chancellor's  first  words 
had  no  connection  with  him  or  his  misdeeds. 

"So  Maximilian  is  amsing  himself  at  Lynarberg?" 
the  old  man  grunted. 

Otto's  face  visibly  brightened.  He  was  not  clever 
or  full  of  resources,  and  he  would  always  prefer  dis- 
cussing the  affairs  of  others  with  this  elder  brother, 
rather  than  his  own.  "Oh,  yes,"  he  answered  alertly. 
"His  Majesty  seems  to  be  amusing  himself  uncom- 
monly well.  But  you,  Eberhard !  Tell  me  of  your- 
self. You  sent  for  me.  Your  gout" — 

"The  devil  run  away  with  my  gout !" 

Otto  started.  "I  devoutly  wish  he  would,  so  he 
left  you  behind,"  he  retorted — meaning  exactly  the 
opposite,  as  he  usually  did  when  talking  with  the 
Chancellor.  "But"— 

"Don't  tell  me  you  supposed  I  had  sent  for  you 
that  I  might  have  the  pleasure  of  your  condolences?" 

"No — o,"  laughed  Otto.  "I  fancied  there  was  an- 
other reason;  but  I  am  bound  in  common  politeness 
to  take  your  sincerity  for  granted  until  you  unde- 
ceive me." 

"Hang  common  politeness!"  remarked  the  old 
bear — or  as  nearly  in  those  words  as  the  Rhaetian 
language  permitted.  "I  sent  for  you  to  tell  me  what 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

mischief  that  witch-hawk  Malvine  von  Lynar  is 
hatching.  You  are  on  the  spot.  You  should  see 
everything.  It  will  not  be  the  worse  for  you  if  for 
once  you  have  used  those  handsome  eyes  of  yours  to 
some  advantage !" 

Otto  was  genuinely  astonished,  as  during  the  long 
drive  he  had  been  carefully  bracing  himself  against 
a  personal  attack.  He  sat  pulling  his  moustache, 
and  was  still  trying  to  remember  some  striking  inci- 
dent with  which  to  adorn  his  narrative,  when  the 
Chancellor  began  again. 

"Has  Maximilian  been  playing  the  fool  at  Lynar- 
berg  these  last  two  days?" 

"Fool  is  a  strong  word  to  use  in  connection  with 
one's  sovereign,"  smiled  Otto,  recovering  his  pres- 
ence of  mind.  "But  if  by  'playing  the  fool'  you 
mean  falling  in  love,  why,  then,  brother,  I  should 
say  he  had  done  little  else  during  those  two  days  you 
mention." 

"Iron  Heart"  growled  out  a  word  which  he  would 
certainly  not  have  uttered  in  his  Royal  master's  pres- 
ence, especially  in  the  connection  he  suggested. 
"Give  me  a  detailed  account  of  what  has  been  going 
on,  from  beginning  to  end,"  he  commanded. 

Otto  looked  thoughtful.  This,  then,  explained 
the  sudden  summons.  He  was  to  be  let  off  easily; 
but,  his  suspense  relieved,  he  was  not  ready  to  be 
satisfied  with  purely  negative  blessings. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  115 

"It  seems  a  little  like  telling  tales  out  of  school, 
doesn't  it  ?"  he  gently  objected. 

"Schoolboys  with  empty  pockets  do  that  some- 
times," sneered  the  Chancellor.  "But  perhaps  your 
pockets  are  not  empty — eh  ?" 

"They  are  in  a  chronic  state  of  emptiness!" 
groaned  Otto. 

"On  the  fifteenth  day  of  October  your  quarterly 
allowance  will  be  paid,"  said  "Iron  Heart."  "I 
would  increase  the  instalment  by  the  amount  of  five 
thousand  gulden,  if  you  took  pains  to — humour  any 
whim  of  mine." 

"I  am  always  delighted  to  please  you,"  answered 
Otto,  with  alacrity.  "It  is  only  natural,  living  the 
monotonous  life  you  do,  when  not  busy  with  affairs 
of  state,  that  you  should  care  to  hear  what  goes  on  in 
the  world  outside ;  and  I  will  gladly  do  my  best  as  a 
raconteur." 

"Don't  lie,"  said  the  Chancellor.  "The  habit  is 
growing  on  you.  You  lie  to  yourself ;  presently  you 
will  believe  yourself,  and  then  all  hope  for  your  soul 
will  be  over.  I  want  to  know  how  far  Maximilian 
has  gone  in  his  infatuation  for  this  English  girl.  I 
am  not  afraid  to  speak  plainly  to  you,  and  you  can 
safely  do  the  same  with  me.  The  woman  von  Lynar 
attempted  to  'draw'  me,  as  she  would  have  expressed 
it,  on  the  subject,  and,  by  Heaven,  I'm  ashamed  to 
say  that  she  succeeded.  She  suggested  an  entangle- 
ment ;  I  replied  that  Maximilian  was  not  the  man  tq 


116  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

rouse  a  hornet-nest  of  gossip  round  the  ears  of  a 
woman  who  had  saved  his  life.  No  matter  what  his 
inclination  might  be,  he  would  pay  her  no  repeated 
visits  at  the  Hohenburgerhof.  This  thrust  the  von 
Lynar  parried — as  if  repeating  a  mere  rumour — by 
remarking  that  she  understood  the  girl  was  to  stay 
at  the  house  of  some  one  among  the  Emperor's 
friends.  I  attached  little  importance  to  her  chatter, 
believing  it  but  a  spiteful  slap  such  as  it  is  the  tiger- 
cat's  pleasure  to  deal  those  she  hates.  For  once  in 
her  life,  though,  she  has  stolen  a  march  upon  me. 
The  secret  was  only  kept  until  too  late  for  me  to  pre- 
vent the  Emperor  from  fulfilling  his  engagement; 
then  I  don't  doubt  she  was  all  eagerness  that  I  should 
hear  of  her  success." 

"Do  you  think  that,  even  if  you  had  known  sooner, 
you  could  have  prevented  the  Emperor  from  going 
to  Lynarberg?"  inquired  Otto,  with  thinly  veiled  in- 
credulity. "If  you  are  iron,  he  is  steel." 

"I  would  have  prevented  it,"  retorted  the  Chancel- 
lor. "I  should  have  made  no  bones  about  the  rea- 
son, for  I  have  found  that  the  only  way  with  Max- 
imilian is  to  tell  him  the  truth,  and  fight  it  out — my 
experience  against  his  obstinacy.  If  advice  and 
warning  had  not  sufficed  to  keep  him  from  insulting 
the  girl  who  is  to  be  his  wife,  and  injuring  the  repu- 
tation of  the  girl  who  never  can  be,  I  would  have  de- 
vised some  other  expedient.  I  am  not  a  man  easily 
thwarted," 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  117 

"Nor  is  he,"  added  Otto.  "But,  since  you  seem 
so  determined  to  nip  this  blossom  of  love  in  the  bud, 
it  is  not  yet,  we'll  hope,  too  late  for  frost." 

"I  sent  for  you,"  said  the  Chancellor,  brushing 
away  a  metaphor  with  an  intolerant  gesture,  "to 
show  me  the  exact  spot  on  which  to  lay  a  finger." 

"And  I  will  try  to  deserve  your  confidence,"  grace- 
fully responded  the  young  officer.  "Let  me  see 
where  it  will  be  best  to  begin.  Well,  as  you  know, 
it  is  simpler  for  the  Emperor  to  see  much  of  a 
woman  he  favours  with  his  regard  in  a  friend's 
house  than  at  the  Hohenburgerhof  or  any  hotel  in 
Rhaetia.  This  particular  woman  saved  his  life  at 
the  risk  of  her  own;  and  it  is  so  natural  that  he 
should  wish  to  do  her  honour,  that  everybody  takes 
his  attitude  for  granted.  Miss  de  Courcy  and  her 
mother,  with  several  others  of  our  party,  had  been 
for  some  days  guests  at  Lynarberg  before  the  Em- 
peror came,  and  were  ready  to  receive  him.  The 
girl  is  exceptionally  beautiful,  with  a  winning  man- 
ner which  appeals  to  women  equally  with  men.  Miss 
de  Courcy  had  her  friends  and  admirers  in  the  house 
before  the  Emperor  arrived ;  not  one  of  the  Baroness 
von  Lynar's  guests  incline  to  put  an  evil  construc- 
tion on  a  little  flirtation  between  her  and  Maximilian. 
Are  you  sure,  Eberhard,  that  you  are  not  taking  too 
serious  a  view  of  the  matter?" 

"It  cannot  be  regarded  too  seriously,  in  the  cir- 
cumstances. Princesses  are  women,  and  gossip  is 


118  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

hydra-headed.  When  the  lady  who  has  been  allowed 
to  understand  that  the  Emperor  only  waits  an  oppor- 
tunity of  formally  asking  her  for  her  hand  hears — 
as  she  will  hear — that  he  has  seized  this  moment  for 
his  first  liaison  with  another  woman,  neither  she  nor 
her  family  are  likely  to  take  the  news  kindly.  She 
is  German;  on  her  father's  side,  second  cousin  to 
Kaiser  Wilhelm.  She  is  English;  on  her  mother's 
side,  distantly  related  to  Queen  Victoria.  Both 
countries  would  have  reason  to  resent  a  slight." 

"The  little  affair  must  be  hushed  up,"  said  Otto. 

"It  must  be  stopped,"  said  the  Chancellor. 

"A — ach !"  sighed  the  young  brother.  There  was 
a  world  of  meaning  in  the  long-drawn  breath,  if  the 
elder  cared  to  read  it. 

At  least,  it  roused  him  to  a  renewed  sense  of  irri- 
tation. "Go  on,"  he  demanded.  "Go  on  with  your 
sorry  tale." 

"After  all,  when  one  comes  to  telling,  there  isn't 
much  that  can  be  put  into  words,"  Otto  reflected 
aloud.  "The  Emperor's  place  at  the  table  has  nat- 
urally been  beside  the  Baroness.  For  next  neigh- 
bour she  considerately  gave  him  Miss  de  Courcy. 
It  has  been  noticed  that  they  have  talked  together  as 
much  as  etiquette  to  the  hostess  allowed,  during  din- 
ner. Then — the  Emperor  being  an  old  friend  of  the 
von  Lynars,  accustomed  to  visiting  at  Lynarberg 
since  he  was  a  boy — he  took  it  upon  himself  to  show 
the  English  girl  some  of  the  beauties  of  the  place.  I 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  119 

know  tHat  they  went  alone  together  to  the  rose-gar- 
den, which  is  famous,  you  remember;  and  Miss  de 
Courcy  came  back  with  her  hands  full  of  flowers, 
doubtless  gathered  for  her  by  Maximilian.  On  the 
evening  of  his  arrival  we  were  all  out  on  the  lake  in 
small  boats.  The  Emperor  rowed  Miss  de  Courcy 
to  the  Isle  of  Cupid,  to  see  Thorwaldsen's  statue, 
and  lesser  mortals  joined  them  there.  Yesterday, 
we  had  a  picnic  at  the  Seebachfall.  The  Emperor 
and  Miss  de  Courcy  are  both  remarkably  good  climb- 
ers, and  reached  the  top  long  before  the  others.  I 
was  close  behind,  however,  with  our  friend  Malvine, 
at  starting  from  the  carriages,  and  I  overheard  some 
joke  between  them  about  a  mountain,  and  a  cow ;  the 
Emperor  spoke  of  milking  as  a  'fine  art,'  and  re- 
marked that  he  had  lately  learned.  I  could  hear  no 
more ;  but  it  struck  me  that  the  two  were  on  terms  of 
camaraderie. 

"Last  night  there  were  fireworks  on  the  lake  (per- 
haps you  saw  something  of  them  from  your  win- 
dows?) ;  the  Emperor  and  Miss  de  Courcy  watched 
them  side  by  side — for  everything  was  conducted 
quite  unconventionally ;  you  know  he  hates  formality 
when  visiting  as  much  as  he  hates  the  lack  of  it  in 
business.  Afterwards,  we  had  an  impromptu  cotil- 
lon, with  several  new  figures  invented  by  the  Bar- 
oness ;  Maximilian  and  Miss  de  Courcy  danced  often 
together.  This  morning,  we  all  visited  the  stables, 
the  kennels,  and  the  gardens;  the  Emperor  walked 


120  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

sometimes  with  the  hostess,  sometimes  with  Miss  de 
Courcy.  This  brings  us  up  to  the  moment  of  my 
departure;  for  the  afternoon,  I  fancy  Malvine  had 
planned  a  ride." 

"The  girl  is  a  fool  and  an  adventuress!"  pro- 
nounced the  Chancellor.  "She  must  know  that 
nothing  can  come  of  such  folly — except  scandal." 

Otto  shrugged  his  stiffly  padded  shoulders.  "A 
woman  in  love  doesn't  stop  to  count  the  cost !" 

"So !  you  fancy  her  'in  love'  with  the  Emperor  ?" 

"With  the  man,  rather  than  the  Emperor,  if  I  am 
a  judge  of  character." 

"Which  you  are  not!"  Old  "Iron  Heart" 
brusquely  disposed  of  that  suggestion.  "The  silliest 
woman  could  pull  wool  over  your  eyes,  if  she  cared 
to  take  the  trouble." 

"This  one  does  not  care.  She  hardly  knows  that 
I  exist." 

"Humph !"  The  Chancellor  peered  over  his  gold- 
bowed  spectacles  at  his  young  brother's  handsome 
face.  "That's  a  pity.  You  might  have  tried  cutting 
Maximilian  out !  You  would  not  be  a  bad  match  for 
an  ambitious  woman,  with  your  good  looks,  our  po- 
sition, and  my  money." 

"Your  money?" 

"I  mean,  if  I  chose  to  proclaim  you  my  heir.  I 
would  do  that,  if  you  married  to  please  me.  Who 
are  these  de  Courcys  ?" 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"I  have  not  had  the  curiosity  to  inquire  into  their 
antecedents,"  said  Otto.  "I  only  know  that  they  are 
ladies,  that  they  must  be  persons  of  consequence  in 
their  own  country  (or  they  could  not  have  got  letters 
to  everybody  here  from  Lady  West),  and  that  the 
girl  is  the  handsomest  creature  living." 

"The  tiger-cat  said  that  Lady  West  was  respon- 
sible for  the  mother  and  daughter,"  soliloquised  the 
Chancellor  aloud.  "But  Rhaetia  is  a  long  cry  from 
England.  And  letters  are  forged  sometimes.  I  have 
known  such  things  more  than  once  in  my  experience. 
Fetch  me  a  big  red  volume  you  will  find  on  the  third 
shelf  of  the  bookcase,  in  the  corner  by  the  window 
that  overlooks  the  lake.  The  book  is  'Burke's  Peer- 
age'!" 

Otto  rose  promptly  to  obey.  He  was  rather 
thoughtful.  His  brother  had  put  a  completely  new 
idea  into  his  head. 

Presently  the  red  volume  was  discovered  and  laid 
open  on  the  desk  before  the  Chancellor,  who  slowly 
turned  to  the  required  page.  As  his  eye  fell  upon 
a  long  line  of  de  Courcys,  his  face  changed,  and  the 
bristling  brows  drew  together  in  a  straight  line.  At 
least,  these  women  did  not  appear  to  be  adventur- 
esses, in  the  ordinary  acceptation  of  the  term. 

There  they  were;  his  square-tipped  finger  found 
and  pressed  down  upon  the  printed  names,  with  a  dig 
that  symbolised  its  disposition  towards  their  claim- 
ants. 


122  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"The  girl's  mother  is  the  widow  of  Sir  Thomas, 
sixth  Baron  de  Courcy,"  the  Chancellor  mumbled 
half  aloud.  "Son,  Thomas  Alfred — um — um — um 
— twelve  years  old;  daughter,  Gladys  Irene  Mary 
Katherine,  twenty-eight.  Hump!  she's  no  chicken; 
she  ought  to  have  better  sense !" 

"Twenty-eight !"  echoed  Otto.  "I'll  be  hanged  if 
she's  twenty-eight." 

"She  doesn't  look  it?" 

"Not  a  day  more  than  eighteen.  Might  be 
younger.  I  never  was  so  surprised  to  learn  a  wom- 
an's age.  By  the  way,  I  heard  her  telling  von  Lynar 
last  night,  a  propos  of  our  great  Rhaetian  victory  in 
that  month  and  year,  that  she  was  born  in  June,  '79. 
If  so,  she  would  now  have  been  twenty-one.  It  was 
difficult  to  believe  her  even  as  much.  When  she'd 
spoken,  I  remember,  she  gave  a  sudden  start  and 
blush,  looking  across  the  room  at  her  mother,  as 
though  she  were  frightened.  I  suppose  she  hoped 
there  was  no  copy  of  this  great  red  book  at  Lynar- 
berg." 

"That  thought  might  have  been  in  her  mind," 
grunted  the  Chancellor,  "or" —  He  left  his  sentence 
unfinished,  and  sat,  with  prominent,  unseeing  eyes 
fixed  in  an  owlish  stare  on  the  open  page  of  Burke. 

"Did  you  really  mean  what  you  said  a  few  min- 
utes ago  about  my  marriage?"  Otto  ventured  to  at- 
tract his  brother's  attention.  "Because  if  you  did" — 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  123 

"If  I  did— what  then?" 

"I  might  try — to  please  you  in  my  choice  of  a 
wife." 

"Be  more  explicit.  You  mean  you  would  en- 
deavor to  show  this  Miss  de  Courcy  that  a  bird  in 
the  hand  is  worth  an  Emperor  in  the  bush — a  bram- 
ble bush  at  that  ?" 

"Yes,  I  would  do  my  best.  I  have — er — some  ad- 
vantages." 

"You  have.  And  I  was  on  the  point  of  suggesting 
that  you  should  make  the  most  of  them  in  her  eyes, 
before — you  brought  me  this  book."  The  large  fore- 
finger tapped  the  page  of  de  Courcys,  while  two  grim 
lines  of  dogged  purpose  framed  the  Chancellor's 
long-lipped  mouth. 

"And  now  you've  changed  your  mind?"  There 
was  a  distinct  note  of  disappointment  in  "handsome 
Otto's"  voice. 

"I  don't  say  that.  I  merely  say,  'Wait.'  Make 
yourself  as  indispensable  to  the  lady  as  you  choose ; 
that  is,  on  your  own  responsibility ;  but  don't  pledge 
yourself,  and  don't  count  upon  my  promise  or  my 
money,  until  you  hear  again.  By  that  time — well, 
we  shall  see  what  we  shall  see.  Keep  your  hand  in ; 
but  wait — wait." 

"How  long  am  I  to  wait?  If  the  thing  is  to  be 
done  at  all,  it  must  be  done  soon.  Meanwhile,  the 
Emperor  makes  all  the  running." 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

The  Chancellor  looked  up,  his  eyes  introspective, 
his  fist  still  covering  the  de  Courcys. 

"You  are  to  wait  until  I  have  had  answers  to  a 
couple  of  telegrams  I  shall  send  to-night." 


A  WHITE  NIGHT 

"You  meaner  beauties  of  the  night, 
That  poorly  satisfy  your  eyes 
More  by  your  number  than  your  light, 
You  common  people  of  the  skies — 
What  are  you  when  the  moon  shall  rise?'* 

THE  first  and  second  dressing-gongs  had  sounded  at 
Schloss  Lynarberg  on  the  evening  of  the  day  after 
Otto's  visit  to  his  brother,  and  the  Grand  Duchess 
was  beginning  to  wonder  what  detained  her  daugh- 
ter, when  ringed  fingers  tapped  smartly  at  the  door. 
"Come  in!"  she  answered  the  familiar  sound,  and 
Sylvia  appeared  on  the  threshold,  still  in  the  tennis 
dress  she  had  worn  that  afternoon.  She  stood  for 
an  instant  without  speaking,  her  face  so  radiantly 
beautiful  that  it  seemed  illumined  by  a  light  from 
within. 

It  had  been  on  the  tip  of  her  mothers'  tongue  to 
scold  the  girl  for  her  delay,  since  to  be  late  was  an 
almost  unpardonable  offence,  with  Royalty  in  the 

125 


126  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

house.  But  the  words  died,  and  others  of  a  different 
sort  came  trooping  to  their  place. 

"Sylvia,  what  is  it?  You  look —  I  hardly  know 
how  you  look !  But  something  has  happened." 

The  Princess  came  slowly  across  the  room,  smiling 
with  the  air  of  one  who  walks  in  sleep.  She  hardly 
appeared  to  see  the  chair  she  took,  but  sat  down  as 
if  by  instinct,  then  rested  her  elbows  on  her  knees, 
her  chin  nestling  between  her  palms,  like  a  pinky- 
white  rose  in  its  calyx. 

"You  may  go,  Josephine,"  said  the  Grand  Duchess 
to  her  maid.  "I  will  ring  when  I  want  you  again." 

The  elaborate  process  of  dressing  her  luxuriant 
grey  hair  had  just  been  finished.  The  rest  might 
wait  until  curiosity  was  satisfied. 

But  Sylvia  sat  still,  dreaming.  The  Grand  Duch- 
ess had  to  speak  twice  in  a  raised  tone  before  she 
could  command  attention.  "My  child — have  you 
anything  to  tell  me?" 

Sylvia  roused  herself.  "Nothing,  mother,  really 
—except  that  I  am  the  happiest  girl  on  earth." 

"Why— what  has  he  said?" 

"Not  a  word  that  anyone  might  not  have  listened 
to.  But  I  know.  He  does  care;  and  I  think  he  will 
say  something  before  we  part." 

"There  is  only  one  day  more  of  his  visit  here, 
after  to-night." 

"One  whole,  long,  beautiful  day — together!" 

"But  after  all,  darling,"  ventured  the  Grand  Duch- 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

ess,  "what  do  you  expect?  If  you  were  really  only 
Miss  de  Courcy,  marriage  between  you  and  the  Em- 
peror of  Rhaetia  would  be  out  of  the  question. 
You've  never  been  very  communicative  on  this  sub- 
ject, but  I  wish  I  knew  exactly  what  you  hope  for, 
what  you  will  consider  the — the  keystone  of  the  situ- 
ation?" 

"Only  for  him  to  tell  me  that  he  loves  me,"  Sylvia 
confessed.  "If  I  am  right — if  I  have  brought  some- 
thing new  into  his  life — something  which  has  shown 
him  that  he  has  a  heart  as  well  as  a  head — then  there 
will  come  a  moment  when  he  can  keep  silent  no 
longer,  when  he  will  have  to  say,  'I  love  you,  and 
because  we  can  be  nothing  to  each  other,  day  is 
turned  into  night  for  me/  Then — when  that  mo- 
ment comes — the  tide  of  my  fortune  will  be  at  its 
flood.  I  shall  tell  him  that  I  love  him,  too — and — 
I  shall  tell  him  all  the  truth." 

"You  will  tell  him  who  you  really  are?" 

"Yes ;  and  why  I  have  been  masquerading.  That 
it  was  because  he  had  always  been  the  one  man  on 
earth  for  me ;  because,  when  our  marriage  was  sug- 
gested, I  would  win  his  love  first  as  a  woman,  or  I 
would  live  singly  all  my  days." 

"What  if  he  should  be  angry  and  refuse  to  forgive 
you?  You  know,  dear,  we  shall  be  in  a  curious  po- 
sition, at  best,  when  the  truth  comes  out,  having 
made  our  acquaintances  here  under  the  name  of  de 
Courcy.  Even  Lady  West,  so  dear  a  friend,  so  ro- 


128  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

mantic  a  heart,  was  uncomfortable  about  the  letters. 
She  only  eased  her  conscience  because  our  real  posi- 
tion in  the  world  was  much  higher  than  the  one  we 
assumed;  therefore,  those  to  whom  we  were  intro- 
duced would  be  but  too  pleased  to  know  us  in  our 
own  characters  at  the  end.  Yet  Maximilian  is  a 
man,  not  a  romantic  woman ;  he  has  always  borne  a 
reputation  for  austerity,  for  being  just  before  he  was 
generous,  and  it  may  be  that  to  one  of  his  nature  a 
mad  prank  like  this  of  yours" — 

"You  think  of  him  as  he  was,  not  as  he  is,  if  you 
fancy  he  would  be  hard  with — a  woman  he  loved," 
said  Sylvia.  "He  will  forgive  me,  mother;  I  have 
no  fear  of  that.  To-night,  I  have  no  fear  of  any- 
thing. He  loves  me — and  I  am  Empress  of  the 
world." 

"Many  women  would  be  satisfied  with  Rhaetia," 
was  the  practical  thought  in  the  mind  of  the  Grand 
Duchess;  but  she  would  throw  no  more  cold  water 
upon  her  daughter's  mood  of  exaltation.  She  kissed 
Sylvia  on  the  forehead,  breathed  a  few  words  of 
sympathy;  then  shook  her  head,  sighing  doubtfully, 
when  the  girl  had  gone  to  her  own  room  to  dress. 

It  sounded  poetical,  and  as  easy  to  arrange  as 
turning  a  kaleidoscope  to  form  a  new  combination, 
while  Sylvia  talked;  but,  when  her  happy  face  and 
brilliant  eyes  no  longer  illuminated  the  situation,  the 
way  seemed  dark.  To  be  sure,  Sylvia  had  so  tar 
walked  triumphantly  along  the  high  road  to  success ; 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  129 

but  it  was  not  always  a  good  beginning  which  made 
a  good  ending,  as  the  old  Duke  of  Northminster  had 
been  wont  to  observe;  and  now  the  Grand  Duchess 
of  Eltzburg-Neuwald  felt  that  her  nerves  must  re- 
main at  high  tension  until  matters  were  definitely 
settled,  for  better  or  for  worse. 

Sylvia  had  never  in  her  life  been  lovelier  than  she 
was  that  night  at  dinner,  and  Otto  von  Markstein's 
admiration  for  her  beauty  had  in  it  a  new  ingredient, 
which  added  a  fascinating  spice.  He  had  regarded 
her  until  yesterday  as  a  penniless  connoisseur  regards 
a  masterpiece  of  statuary  which  it  is  impossible  that 
he  should  dream  of  possessing.  What  we  know  is 
not  for  us,  we  are  scarcely  conscious  of  desiring,  but 
the  moment  an  element  of  hope  enters  in,  we  behold 
the  object  from  a  more  personal  point  of  view. 

Otto  looked  also  very  often  at  the  Emperor,  con- 
trasting his  sovereign's  appearance  somewhat  unfa- 
vourably with  his  own.  Maximilian  was  thin  and 
dark,  with  a  grave  cast  of  feature ;  while  Otto's  face 
had  contrived  to  retain  all  the  colour  and  beauty  of 
youth.  Alma  Tadema  would  have  wreathed  him 
with  vine  leaves,  given  him  a  lute,  draped  him  in  a 
tiger  skin,  and  set  him  down  on  a  marble  bench 
against  a  sapphire  sky,  when  he  would  have  appeared 
to  far  greater  advantage  than  in  the  stiff  uniform  of 
a  crack  Rhaetian  regiment.  Maximilian,  on  the  con- 
trary, must  always  have  been  painted  as  a  soldier, 
and  it  seemed  to  the  young  officer,  since  his  grim 


130  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

brother  had  put  the  thought  into  his  head,  that  there 
could  be  no  question  as  to  the  ultimate  preference  of 
a  normal  girl. 

Miss  de  Courcy  did  not  notice  him  at  present,  be- 
cause the  Emperor  loomed  large  in  the  foreground ; 
but  Eberhard  had  evidently  a  plan  in  his  head  for 
removing  that  stately  obstacle  into  the  perspective. 

Otto  had  not  heard  that  Miss  de  Courcy  was  an 
heiress,  therefore,  even  had  there  been  no  Emperor, 
he  would  have  prostrated  himself  at  the  attractive 
shrine.  But  now  the  shrine  was  newly  decked.  Otto 
dwelt  much  in  thought  upon  the  Chancellor's  appar- 
ently impulsive  offer  and  the  somewhat  contradictory 
command  which  had,  a  little  later,  enjoined  delay. 

He  had  not,  fortunately,  been  forbidden  to  preen 
himself  under  the  eyes  of  the  English  beauty,  and 
his  desire  now  was,  when  the  men  should  rejoin  the 
ladies  after  dinner,  to  make  his  way  at  once  to  Miss 
de  -Courcy's  side.  But,  as  bad  luck  would  have  it, 
Baron  von  Lynar  detained  him  for  a  few  moments 
with  the  account  of  a  marvellous  remedy  which 
might  cure  the  Chancellor's  gout;  and  when  he  es- 
caped to  look  for  Miss  de  Courcy  in  the  great  white 
drawing-room,  she  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  From 
the  music-room  adjoining,  however,  came  sounds 
which  drew  him  toward  the  door.  He  knew  Miss 
de  Courcy's  touch  on  the  piano ;  she  was  there,  play- 
ing soft,  low  chords.  Perhaps  she  was  preparing  to 
sing,  as  she  had  once  or  twice  before,  and  would  need 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  131 

someone  to  turn  the  pages  of  her  music.  Otto  was  in 
the  act  of  pushing  aside  the  embroidered  white  vel- 
vet portiere  that  curtained  the  door,  when  the  hos- 
tess smilingly  beckoned  him  away.  "The  Emperor 
has  just  asked  Miss  de  Courcy  to  teach  him  an  old- 
fashioned  English  or  Scotch  air  (I  fear  I  don't  knew 
the  difference!)  called  'Annie  Laurie/"  she  ex- 
plained. "He  was  quite  charmed  when  she  sang  it 
the  other  day;  and  I  have  been  telling  him  that  the 
music  would  exactly  suit  his  voice.  I  think  we  had 
better  not  disturb  them  until  the  lesson  is  over.  Tell 
me  (I  had  hardly  a  moment  to  ask  you  last  night), 
how  did  you  really  find  the  Chancellor?" 

Chained  to  a  forced  allegiance,  Otto  mechanically 
answered  the  quickly  following  questions  of  the  Bar- 
oness, ears  and  eyes  both  doing  their  secret  best  to 
penetrate  the  curtain  of  white  and  gold. 

Everybody  knew  of  the  music  lesson,  and  every- 
body chatted  in  tactful  pretence  of  ignorance.  Once, 
twice,  and  thrice  the  mezzo-soprano  and  the  baritone 
sang  conscientiously  through  the  verses  of  "Annie 
Laurie,"  with  occasional  break-downs  and  new  be- 
ginnings; then  a  few  more  desultory  chords  were 
struck  on  the  piano;  and  at  last  silence  reigned  in 
the  music-room.  Were  the  two  still  there  ?  If  they 
conversed  in  low  tones,  it  would  not  only  be  imprac- 
ticable to  catch  what  they  said,  but  even  to  hear  the 
murmur  of  their  voices,  in  the  drawing-room.  To 
interrupt  such  a  tete-&-tete  was  not  to  be  thought  of, 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

but  Otto  was  turning  over  in  his  mind  some  less  con- 
spicuous, equally  efficacious  way  of  ending  it,  when 
there  came  a  sudden  diversion. 

Lady  de  Courcy  received  a  telegram,  brought  by 
mounted  messenger  from  Salzbriick,  and  was  so 
much  affected  thereby  that  she  showed  signs  of 
swooning.  Her  plump,  pleasant  little  face  grew 
pale;  she  rose  from  her  chair,  tottering,  and  admit- 
ted, in  answer  to  Baroness  von  Lynar's  solicitous 
inquiries,  that  she  had  had  bad  news. 

"Where  is  my  daughter?"  she  asked.  "I  think, 
as  I  am  rather  upset  by — by  disquieting  accounts  of 
a  dear  friend,  I  had  better  go  to  my  room.  And  I 
shall  be  so  much  obliged  if — Mary  can  be  sent  to  me 
as  soon  as  she  comes  in." 

Now  was  Otto's  chance.  While  everyone  gath- 
ered round  Lady  de  Courcy,  and  smelling-salts  were 
in  requisition,  he  lifted  the  white  portiere  and  peeped 
through  a  small  ante-chamber  into  the  music-room. 
The  Emperor  and  Miss  de  Courcy  were  no  longer 
there. 

Otto  twisted  his  moustache;  he  usually  twisted  it 
on  the  right  side  when  pleased ;  and  he  twisted  it — 
a  great  deal  more — on  the  left  when  he  was  dis- 
pleased. He  looked  reproachfully  round  the  room, 
and  presently  observed  that  one  of  the  large  win- 
dows leading  to  the  Italian  garden  stood  wide  open. 

The  month  of  September  was  dying;  but,  though 
winter  had  begun  in  the  Rhaetian  mountains, 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  133 

warmth  and  sunshine  still  lingered  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Salzbriick.  A  balmy  air,  laden  with  sweet 
scents  of  the  flowers  which  Baron  von  Lynar  had 
imported  from  Italy,  floated  to  Otto's  nostrils.  The 
lauguorous  perfume  suggested  soft  dalliance  and 
confessions  of  love.  The  Emperor  had  taken  Miss 
de  Courcy  into  the  garden;  Otto  knew  that  well 
enough ;  and  if  there  had  been  a  plentitude  of  trees, 
with  broad  trunks,  behind  which  a  man's  figure 
might  modestly  conceal  itself  in  the  darkness,  he 
would  unobtrusively  have  followed.  But  he  men- 
tally reviewed  the  shrubbery,  plant  by  plant,  as  he 
could  recall  it,  and  decided  at  last  that  the  better 
part  of  valour  for  an  officer  and  a  gentleman  lay  in 
remaining  within  doors.  He  did  not,  however,  re- 
turn to  the  drawing-room,  despite  the  concern  for 
Lady  de  Courcy's  health  which  had  taken  him  in 
search  of  her  daughter.  Heavy  curtains  of  olive- 
green  velvet  hung  straight  down  over  the  windows 
of  the  music-room,  and  by  neatly  sandwiching 
oneself  in  a  deep  embrasure  between  the  drapery  and 
window-frame,  one  found  a  convenient  niche  for  ob- 
serving a  limited  quarter  of  the  garden.  The  moon 
was  rising  over  the  lake,  and  long  pale  rays  of  level 
light  were  creeping  up  the  paths,  like  the  fingers  of 
a  blind  man  that  touch  gropingly  the  features  of  a 
beloved  face. 

Otto  could  not  see  very  far,  but  if  the  Emperor 
and  his  companion  returned  by  the  way  they  had 


134  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

taken,  as  they  were  almost  sure  to  do,  he  would 
know  whether  they  walked  back  to  the  house  in  the 
attitude  of  formal  acquaintances  or — lovers. 

They  had  not  been  gone  from  the  piano  for  many 
minutes,  and  they  would  not  be  likely  to  extend  this 
duet — which  so  logically  followed  the  music — much 
longer.  One  of  the  two,  if  not  both,  would  have 
sense  enough  left  to  remember  les  convenances. 

But  the  moments  went  on,  and  Otto,  whose  patent- 
leather  pumps  were  rather  tight,  changed  from  one 
position  to  another,  straining  his  eyes  down  the  whit- 
ening alleys  in  vain. 

Everything  in  the  garden  that  was  not  white  was 
grey  as  the  dove's  wing  that  night.  Even  the  shad- 
ows were  not  black.  And  the  sky  was  grey,  with  a 
changeful  color  of  stars,  like  the  shimmering  light 
on  a  spangled  fan  that  moves  to  and  fro  in  the  rest- 
less hand  of  a  woman.  White  moths,  forgetful  that 
summer  would  come  no  more  into  their  brief  lives, 
fluttered  out  from  the  shadows  like  rose  petals  tossed 
by  the  south  wind.  On  a  trellis,  a  sisterhood  of  pale 
nun-roses  hung  their  faces  earthward,  in  memento 
mori. 

It  was  a  white  night;  a  night  of  enchantment;  a 
night  for  lovers. 

Maximilian  had  only  meant  to  take  Sylvia  out  to 
see  the  moon  rise  over  the  water,  turning  the  surface 
of  jet  to  a  sheet  of  steel;  for  there  had  been  clouds 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA)  135 

or  rain  on  other  nights,  and  he  had  said  to  himself 
that  perhaps  never  again  would  they  two  stand  alone 
together  in  the  moonshine.  He  had  meant  to  keep 
her  to  himself  for  five  minutes,  saying  little,  though 
it  might  be  that  he  would  think  a  great  deal.  He 
had  meant  that — no  more;  but  they  had  walked 
down  to  the  path  which  rimmed  the  cliff  above  the 
lake.  And  the  moonlight  lay  on  her  gold  hair  and 
her  fair  face  like  a  benediction.  They  did  not  look 
at  one  another,  but  out  over  the  water,  where  the 
silver  sheen  cut  the  darkness  like  the  sword  Excali- 
bur,  rising  from  the  lake. 

Then  came  a  sudden  rustling  in  the  grass  by  the 
side  of  the  path,  at  their  feet.  It  was  some  small 
winged  thing  of  the  night  asking  a  lodging  in  a  bell- 
shaped  flower  whose  blue  colour  the  moon  had 
drunk.  Maximilian  bent  to  pluck  the  branch  of 
blossoms,  and  at  the  same  instant  Sylvia  stooped 
with  a  childlike  impulse  to  "make  the  flower-bells 
ring." 

Their  hands  met  on  the  stem  as  it  broke,  and  Max- 
imilian's closed  over  hers. 

The  moment  she  desired  had  come ;  yet,  woman- 
like, she  wished  it  away — not  gone  for  ever,  but 
waiting  still,  just  round  the  corner  of  the  future. 

"The  flowers  are  yours,"  she  said,  as  if  she 
thought  it  was  in  eagerness  to  obtain  the  spray  that 
he  had  grasped  her  fingers. 

"You  are  the  flower  I  want — the  flower  of  all  the 


136  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

world !"  he  suddenly  answered.  For  the  ice  barriers 
that  held  back  the  torrent  of  which  he  had  told  her 
had  melted  beneath  the  sun  of  love  long  ago.  In 
turn,  they  had  been  replaced  by  other  barriers,  well- 
nigh  as  strong — his  convictions ;  his  duty  as  a  man 
at  the  head  of  a  nation.  But  now,  in  a  moment, 
these  too  had  been  swept  away.  "I  love  you  better 
than  the  life  you  have  saved,"  he  spoke  again.  "I 
have  loved  you  since  that  first  hour,  on  the  moun- 
tain;) and  every  day  since  my  love  has  grown,  until 
I  can  fight  against  it  no  longer.  Only  say  that  you 
care  for  me  a  little — only  say  that." 

"I  do  care,"  Sylvia  whispered.  She  was  very 
happy.  She  had  prayed  for  this,  lived  for  this.  Yet 
she  had  pictured  a  different  scene;  she  had  seemed 
to  hear  broken  words  of  sorrow  and  renunciation  on 
his  lips — a  sorrow  she  could  turn  to  joy.  "I  do 
care — so  much,  that — it  is  hard  to  think  there  is 
nothing  for  us  but  parting." 

"If  you  care,  then  we  shall  not  be  parted,"  said 
Maximilian. 

The  Princess  looked  up  at  him  in  wonder,  putting 
him  from  her,  as  he  would  have  taken  her  in  his 
arms.  What  did  he  mean?  What  was  in  his  mind 
that,  believing  her  to  be  Mary  de  Courcy,  yet  made 
it  possible  for  him  to  speak  as  he  was  speaking  now  ? 

"I  don't  understand,"  she  faltered.  ''What  else  is 
there  for  us?  You  are  the  Emperor  of  Rhaetia; 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  137 

"You  are  my  wife,  if  you  love  me." 

In  the  shock  of  her  surprise  she  was  helpless  to 
resist  him  longer;  and  he  held  her  tightly,  passion- 
ately, his  lips  on  her  hair,  as  her  face  lay  pressed 
against  his  heart.  She  could  hear  it  beating,  feel  it 
throb  under  her  cheek.  His  wife?  How  was  it 
possible  ? 

But  he  said  the  words  again,  "My  darling — my 
wife!" 

"You  love  me  well  enough — for  that?"  she 
breathed.  Sylvia  had  not  dared  to  dream  of  such  a 
triumph  as  this.  "But  the  law  of  your  country? 
Oh,  surely  you  have  forgotten!  We  can  only  love 
each  other,  and  say  good-bye."  She  was  ready  to 
try  him  yet  a  little  further. 

"We  will  love  each  other,  but,  by  Heaven,  we  shall 
not  say  good-bye — not  after  this  hour.  I  could  not 
lose  you.  As  for  the  law,  there  is  nothing  in  it  which 
prevents  my  being  your  husband,  you  my  wife." 

"It  is  strange."  Sylvia's  breath  came  quickly. 
"I  have  thought — I  have  always  believed — that  the 
Empress  of  Rhaetia  must  be  of  Royal  blood.  I" — 

"Ah,  my  darling,  the  Empress  of  Rhaetia  I  cannot 
make  you.  If  you  love  me  as  well — only  half  as  well 
as  I  love  you,  you  will  be  satisfied  with  the  empire  of 
my  heart." 

Suddenly  the  warm  throbbing  blood  in  Sylvia's 
veins  grew  chill.  It  was  as  if  a  wind  had  blown  up 
from  the  dark  depths  of  the  lake,  to  strike  with  an 


138  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

icy  chill  upon  her  soul.  A  moment  more  and  stie 
would  have  told  him  the  whole  truth,  worshipping 
him  because  he  had  been  ready  to  break  through  all 
the  traditions  of  his  country  for  her  sake.  But  now 
her  passionate  impulse  of  gratitude  was  frozen  by 
that  biting  blast.  If  only  it  came  from  clouds  of  mis- 
understanding— if  only  the  clouds  would  part,  and 
give  her  back  the  full  glory  of  a  vanishing  joy! 

"The  empire  of  your  heart!",  she  echoed.  "I 
should  be  richer  than  with  all  the  treasures  of  the 
world,  if  that  were  mine.  If  you  were  the  chamois- 
hunter  I  met  on  the  mountain,  I  would  love  you  as  I 
love  you  now,  and  I  would  go  with  you  to  the  ends 
of  the  earth,  as  your  wife.  But  you  are  not  the 
chamois-hunter;  you  are  an  Emperor.  Had  you 
told  me  only  of  a  hopeless  love,  having  nothing  else 
to  offer  save  that,  and  a  promise  not  to  forget,  since 
your  high  destiny  must  stand  between  us,  I  could 
still  have  been  happy.  Yet  you  say  more  than  that. 
You  say  something  I  cannot  understand.  What  an 
Emperor  offers  a  woman  he  honours,  must  be  all  or 
— nothing." 

"I  do  offer  you  all,"  said  Maximilian.  "All  my- 
self, my  life,  the  very  soul  of  me — all  that  is  my  own 
to  give.  The  rest  belongs  to  Rhaetia." 

"Then— what"— 

"Do  you  not  understand,  my  sweet,  that  I  have 
asked  you  to  be  my  wife?  What  can  a  man  ask 
more  ?" 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  139 

"Your  wife — yet  not  the  Empress.  How  can  the 
two  be  separated?" 

He  tried  to  take  her  once  more  in  his  arms,  but 
when  he  saw  that  she  would  stand  aloof,  he  held  his 
love  in  control  and  waited.  He  was  certain  that  he 
need  not  wait  long,  for  not  only  had  he  laid  his 
heart  at  her  feet,  but,  to  do  that,  he  pledged  himself 
to  a  tremendous  sacrifice.  The  step  upon  which  he 
had  decided,  in  the  moment  when  passion  for  her 
had  overcome  all  prudent  scruples,  would  create  dis- 
sension among  his  people,  rouse  fierce  anger  in  the 
heart  of  one  who  had  been  his  second  father,  incense 
England  and  Germany  because  of  the  young  Prin- 
cess whose  name  rumour  had  already  coupled  with 
his,  and  altogether  raise  a  fierce  storm  about  his  ears. 
When  she  had  reflected,  when  she  fully  understood, 
she  would  be  his,  now  and  for  ever. 

Very  tenderly  he  took  her  hand  and  lifted  it  to 
his  lips ;  then,  when  she  did  not  snatch  it  from  him — 
(because  he  was  to  have  his  chance  of  explanation) 
— he  kept  it  between  both  his  own,  as  he  talked  on. 

"Dearest  one,"  he  said,  "when  I  first  knew  that 
I  loved  you  (as  I  had  not  known  it  was  in  my  nature 
to  love  a  woman)  for  your  sake  and  my  own,  I 
would  have  avoided  seeing  you  too  often.  This  I 
tell  you  frankly.  I  did  not  see  how,  in  honour,  such 
a  love  could  end  except  in  sorrow  for  me — even  for 
you,  if  it  were  possible  that  I  could  make  you  care. 
If  you  and  Lady  de  Courcy  had  stayed  at  the  hotel, 


140  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

I  think  I  could  have  been  faithful  to  the  resolve.  But 
when  Baroness  von  Lynar  spoke  to  me  of  your  com- 
ing here,  at  the  time  of  my  own  visit,  my  heart 
leaped  up.  I  said  in  my  mind  :  'At  least  I  shall  have 
the  happiness  of  seeing  her  every  day,  for  a  time, 
without  doing  anything  to  darken  her  future.  I 
shall  have  these  days  always  to  remember,  when  she 
has  gone  out  of  my  life ;  and  no  harm  will  be  done, 
except  to  myself.'  Still,  I  only  thought  of  parting, 
in  the  end — for  that  seemed  inevitable.  But  not  one 
night  have  I  slept  since  I  have  been  here  at  Lynar- 
berg.  My  rooms  open  on  a  lawn  at  the  other  side  of 
the  house.  Often  I  came  out  here  in  the  darkness, 
when  everyone  else  was  sleeping;  and  sometimes  I 
have  stood  on  this  very  spot,  where  you  and  I  stand 
together  now — heart  to  heart  for  the  first  time,  my 
darling — thinking  whether,  if  you  should  care,  there 
was  any  way  to  be  found  out  of  such  difficulties  as 
mine.  At  last  a  ray  of  light  seemed  to  shine  through 
the  clouds.  There  was  much  to  be  overcome  on  both 
sides,  and  my  mind  was  not  yet  clear,  until  I  brought 
you  here  with  me  to-night.  When  I  saw  you  by  my 
side,  the  moonlight  shining  on  your  face.  I  caught 
at  this  way  of  binding  our  lives  together.  I  knew 
that  my  life  was  worth  nothing  to  me,  unless  it  were 
to  be  shared  with  you." 

"Yet  you  have  not  answered  my  question,"  said 
Sylvia. 

"I  am  coming  to  that  now.    It  was  best  that  you 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  141 

should  hear  first  what  has  been  in  my  heart  and 
mind,  these  last  days  which  have  held  more  joy  for 

?  than  all  the  years  I  have  left  behind.    You  know 

.t  men  who  have  their  place  at  the  head  of  a  great 
n  cannot  think  merely  of  themselves  and  those 

•;;y  love  better  than  themselves.  If  they  desire  to 
snatch  at  personal  happiness,  they  must  take  the  only 
way  open  to  them — that  is  all.  Don't  do  me  the  in- 
justice to  believe  that  I  would  not  be  proud  to  show 
you  to  my  subjects  as  their  Empress ;  but,  instead,  I 
can  only  offer  you  what  men  of  Royal  blood  have 
for  hundreds  of  years  offered  women  whom  they 
respected  as  well  as  loved.  You  have  heard  of  an 
arrangement  which  in  your  country  is  called  a  'mor- 
ganatic marriage'  ?  That  is  what  I  propose." 

With  a  low  cry  of  pain — the  bitter  pain  of  disap- 
pointed love  and  wounded  pride — Sylvia  tore  her 
hand  from  his. 

"Never !"  she  exclaimed.    "It  is  an  insult." 

"An  insult  ?  Then,  even  now  I  have  not  made  you 
understand." 

"I  think  that  I  understand  very  well — far  too 
well,"  said  Sylvia  brokenly.  The  beautiful  fairy 
structure  of  happiness  that  she  had  reared  lay  shat- 
tered— destroyed  in  the  moment  which  should  have 
seen  its  completion. 

"I  tell  you  that  you  do  not  understand,  or  you 
woulcj  not  say — you  would  not  dare  to  say,  my  love 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

— that  I  had  insulted  you.  You  would  be  honourably 
my  wife  in  the  sight  of  God  and  man." 

"Your  wife!"  and  Syliva  gave  a  hard  little  laugh 
which  hurt  more  cruelly  than  her  tears.  "You  have 
a  strange  idea  of  that  word,  which  has  always  been 
sacred  to  me.  I  would  be  your  wife,  you  say;  I 
would  give  you  all  my  love,  all  myself ;  you — would 
give  me  your  left  hand.  And  you  know  well  that, 
at  any  moment,  you  would  be  free  to  marry  another 
woman — (a  woman  you  could  make  an  Empress!) 
— as  free  as  if  I  had  no  existence." 

"Legally  I  might  be  free,"  he  answered,  "but  I 
swear  to  you  that  I  would  never  take  advantage  of 
such  liberty." 

"To  know  you  possessed  it  would  be  death'  to  me. 
Oh,  I  tell  you  again,  it  was  an  insult  to  suggest  a 
fate  so  miserable,  so  contemptible,  for  a  woman  you 
profess  to  love.  How  could  you  bear  to  break  it  to 
me?  If  only  you  had  never  spoken  the  hateful 
words ;  if  you  had  left  me  the  ideal  I  had  formed  of 
you — noble,  glorious!  But  you  are  selfish,  cruel — 
after  all.  If  you  had  only  said,  'I  love  you,  yet  we 
must  part,  for  Fate  stands  between/  then  I  could — 
I  could:  but  no,  I  can  never  tell  you  now  what  I 
might  have  answered  if  you  had  said  that  instead." 

Under  the  sharp  fire  of  her  reproaches  he  stood 
still,  his  lips  tightly  closed,  his  shoulders  squared,  as 
jf  he  had  bared  his  breast  for  the  blow  of  a  knife, 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  143 

"By  Heaven,  it  is  you  who  are  cruel !"  He  said  at 
last.  "How  can  I  show  you  your  injustice?" 

"In  no  way.  There  is  nothing  more  to  say  be- 
tween us  two,  except — farewell." 

"It  shall  not  be  farewell!" 

"It  shall — it  must.    Because — I  wish  it." 

He  had  caught  her  dress  as  she  turned  to  go ;  but 
now  he  released  her.  "You  wish  it  ?  It  is  not  true 
that  you  love  me  then  ?" 

"It  was  true.  Everything — everything  in  my 
whole  life — is  changed  now.  It  would  be  better  if  I 
had  never  seen  you.  Good-bye." 

She  ran  from  him.  One  step  he  took  as  if  to  pur- 
sue her,  but  checked  himself  and  followed  her  only 
with  his  eyes.  In  them  there  was  more  anger  than 
yearning;  for  Maximilian  was  a  proud  man,  and  to 
have  his  love,  and  the  sacrifice  he  would  have  made 
for  love's  sake,  flung  back  in  his  face,  came  like  an 
icy  douche  when  the  blood  is  at  fever  heat. 

For  love  of  this  girl  he  had  in  a  few  days  altered 
the  habits  of  a  lifetime.  Pride,  reserve,  iron  self- 
control,  the  wish  not  only  to  appear,  but  to  be,  a 
man  above  the  frailties  of  common  men;  the  desire 
to  be  admired  almost  as  a  god  by  his  people — all,  all, 
he  had  flung  aside  for  her.  He  was  too  just  not  to 
realise  that  if  one  of  his  many  Royal  cousins,  of 
younger  branches  than  his,  had  contemplated  throw- 
ing away  for  love  half  that  he  was  now  ready  to  cast 
to  the  winds,  he  would  have  regarded  such  weakness 


144.  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

with  contempt.  "He  jests  at  scars  who  never  felt  a 
wound" ;  and  until  the  Emperor  had  learned  by  his 
own  most  unlooked-for  experience  what  love  meant, 
what  men  will  do  for  love  while  its  sweet  madness  is 
upon  them,  he  would  have  been  utterly  unable  to 
sympathise  with  such  passionate  insanity  as  his  own. 
A  cousin  inclined  to  act  as  he  was  bent  on  acting 
would  once  have  found  all  the  Emperor'e  influence, 
even  force  perhaps,  brought  forward  to  constrain 
him.  Maximilian  saw  this  change  in  himself,  was 
astonished  and  shamed  by  it;  yet  would  have  per- 
severed, recklessly  trampling  down  every  obstacle, 
if  only  Sylvia  had  seen  things  with  his  eyes. 

She  had  accused  him  of  insulting  her,  caring  not 
at  all  that,  even  to  make  her  morganatically  his  wife, 
he  must  give  great  cause  of  offence  to  his  Ministers 
and  his  people.  He  was  expected  to  marry  a  woman 
of  Royal  rank,  suitable  to  his  own,  and  to  give  the 
country  an  heir.  If  Sylvia  had  accepted  the  position 
he  offered,  he  could  never  have  thought  of  another 
marriage.  Not  only  would  it  be  exceedingly  diffi- 
cult, in  modern  days,  to  find  a  Princess  willing  to 
tolerate  such  a  rival,  but  it  would  be  impossible  for 
him  so  to  desecrate  the  bond  between  himself  and  the 
woman  he  adored.  This  being  so,  there  could  be  no 
direct  heir  to  the  throne.  At  his  death  his  uncle,  the 
Archduke  Egon's  son,  would  succeed;  and,  during 
his  own  reign,  the  popularity  which  was  dear  to  him 
would  be  hopelessly  forfeited.  Rhaetians  would 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  145 

never  forgive  him  for  selfishly  preferring  his  own 
private  happiness  to  the  good  of  the  nation,  or  what 
they  would  consider  its  good ;  and  they  would  have  a 
right  to  their  resentment,  as  they  had  a  right  to  de- 
mand that  he  should  marry.  He  could  fancy  how 
old  Iron  Heart  von  Markstein  would  present  this 
view  to  him,  with  furious  eloquence,  temples  that 
throbbed  like  the  ticking  of  a  watch,  eyes  netted  with 
bloodshot  veins.  He  could  fancy,  too,  how  with  Syl- 
via's love  and  promise  to  uphold  him,  he  could  have 
stood  against  the  storm,  steadfast  in  his  own  indom- 
itable will.  But  now,  the  will  which  had  carried  him 
through  life  in  a  triumphal  progress  had  been  power- 
less against  that  of  a  girl.  She  would  have  none  of 
him.  A  woman  whose  face  was  her  fortune,  whose 
place  in  life  reached  hardly  so  high  as  the  first  steps 
of  a  throne,  had  refused — an  Emperor. 

Hardly  yet  could  Maximilian  believe  the  thing 
which  had  happened.  He  had  spoken  of  doubting 
that  he  had  won  her  love;  and  so  he  had  doubted. 
But  he  had  allowed  himself  very  strongly  to  hope, 
since  in  the  annals  of  history  it  had  scarcely  been 
known  that  an  Emperor's  suit  should  be  despised. 
Besides,  he  had  loved  her  so  passionately,  that  it 
seemed  she  could  not  be  cold.  He  hoped  still  that, 
when  she  had  passed  the  night  in  reflecting,  in  think- 
ing over  the  situation,  perhaps  taking  counsel  with 
that  commonplace  but  sensible  lady,  her  mother,  she 


146  PRINCESS  SYLVIA: 

might  be  ready,  if  approached  for  the  second  time, 
to  change  her  mind. 

For  the  first  moment  or  two  after  the  stinging  re- 
buff he  had  suffered,  Maximilian  felt  that  he  could 
not  demean  himself — having  been  so  misjudged,  so 
accused — to  sue  again.  But,  as  he  looked  toward 
the  house,  and  thought  of  Sylvia's  sweetness,  her 
beauty  dimmed  by  grief — which  he  had  caused — a 
great  tenderness  breathed  its  calm  over  the  thwarted 
passion  in  his  breast. 

He  would  write  a  letter  and  send  it  to  her  room ; 
or  no,  better  give  her  a  longer  interval  for  repent- 
ance. To-morrow  he  would  see  her  and  show  her 
all  the  depth  of  the  love  she  had  thrust  aside.  She 
could  not  withstand  him  forever;  and  now  that  he 
had  burned  his  boats  behind  him,  he  would  not  go 
back.  He  could  not  give  her  up. 

Sylvia  had  hurried  blindly  toward  the  house,  and 
it  was  instinct  rather  than  intention  which  led  her  to 
open  the  window  of  the  music-room.  Tears  burned 
her  eyelids,  but  they  did  not  fall  until  she  stood  once 
more  where  she  and  Maximilian  had  so  lately  been 
together.  There  she  had  sat,  at  the  piano,  while  he 
had  bent  over  her,  and  she  had  been  happy.  How  lit- 
tle she  had  guessed  the  humiliation  that  was  to  come  1 
How  could  she  bear  it,  and  how  could  she  live  out 
the  years  of  her  life  after  this? 

She  paused  in  the  embrasure  of  the  window,  her 
little  fingers  fiercely  clutching  the  heavy  curtain,  as 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA!  147 

she  gazed  through  a  mist  at  the  picture  called  up  by 
the  open  piano.  Then  a  sob  tore  its  way  from  her 
heart  to  her  lips.  "Cruel — cruel!"  she  stammered, 
half  aloud.  "What  agony — what  an  insult!  Ah, 
well,  the  dream's  ended  now." 

Dashing  the  tears  away  to  clear  her  vision,  withi 
desperation  that  must  vent  itself  somehow,  she  flung 
the  curtain  aside  and  would  have  moved  out  into  the 
room  beyond,  had  not  her  gesture  revealed  the  pres- 
ence of  a  figure  wrapped  in  the  folds  of  velvet. 

Someone  else  was  there  in  the  embrasure  of  the 
window — someone  was  hiding,  and  had  been  spying. 
Dark  as  it  was  behind  the  satin-lined  velvet  curtain, 
she  must  have  seen  a  form  pressed  back  into  the 
shadow,  had  not  her  eyes  been  blinded  by  tears. 

Now,  her  first  impulse  was  for  flight — anything 
to  escape  without  recognition;  but  a  second  quick 
thought  brought  a  change  of  mood.  Whoever  it 
was,  had  been  watching,  was  already  informed  that 
Miss  de  Courcy  had  come  in  weeping,  after  a  tete-a- 
tete  with  the  Emperor.  She  must  know  who  it  was 
with  whom  she  had  to  deal. 

Sylvia  had  taken  a  step  out  into  the  room,  as  she 
flung  back  the  curtain  and  touched  the  warm  shape 
behind  it.  Wheeling  suddenly  round,  she  snatched 
the  screen  of  velvet  away  and  stood  face  to  face  with 
Captain  von  Markstein. 

It  was  a  crucial  moment  for  him.  Quailing  under 
the  lash  of  her  glance,  bereft  of  his  presence  of  mind, 


148  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

he  caught  at  any  chance  for  self-justification.  The 
girl  had  come  back  by  a  different  path  from  the  one 
he  had  watched ;  she  had  rushed  in  like  a  whirlwind, 
without  giving  him  the  opportunity  for  escape  which 
he  had  reasonably  expected.  If  he  stood  waiting  her 
condemnation,  he  was  lost;  he  must  step  into  the 
breach  at  whatever  risk.  No  time  to  weigh  words ; 
the  first  which  sprang  to  his  tongue  must  be  let 
loose. 

"Don't  think  evil  of  me,  Miss  de  Courcy!"  he 
stammered,  still  groping  for  some  excuse,  in  the 
cotton-wool  which  seemed  to  stuff  his  brains. 

"I  do  not  think  at  all."  She  held  her  head 
proudly ;  her  eyes  accused  him  and  belied  her  words. 
With  a  swift  step,  she  would  have  passed  him,  and 
he  would  have  done  well  to  let  her  go;  but  he  had 
caught  a  whisper  of  inspiration  from  his  evil  genius. 
To  turn  the  shame  of  this  defeat  to  victory,  to  pose 
as  hero  instead  of  spy — this  was  an  ending  to  the 
game  worth  the  throw  of  all  his  dice.  So  seemed 
to  say  something  in  his  ear,  and  drunk  with  vanity 
he  flung  himself  before  her. 

"I  beg  of  you  to  think,"  he  cried.  "I  will  not  be 
misjudged.  No  man  could  stand  still  under  the 
look  in  your  eyes  and  not  defend  himself,  if  he  were 
innocent.  Your  face  says  'spy/  ' 

"You  have  read  your  own  meaning  there !  Pray 
let  me  go." 

"One  moment  first.    You  shall  listen.    I  confess 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  149 

I  knew  you  were  in  the  garden  with — one  whom  we 
need  not  name.  To  break  in  upon  such  a  tete-a-tete, 
for  a  man  of  my  inferior  rank,  would  be  almost  a 
crime,  yet  I  would  have  committed  that  crime — to 
save  you.  You  are  so  innocent,  so  beautiful — I 
feared  for  you ;  I  suspected — what  I  know  now  from 
your  words  has  happened.  I  would  have  saved  you 
this  pain,  if  I  could — but  I  was  too  late,  only  in  time 
to  see  you  coming  in,  to  hear — against  my  will — 
your  exclamation.  I  waited  to  say  that  I  can  at  least 
avenge  you.  I  am  at  your  service — your  knight,  as 
in  days  of  old.  Tell  me  what  you  would  have  me 
do,  and  I  will  do  it." 

If  Sylvia's  eyes  had  been  daggers,  he  would  have 
lallen  dead  at  her  feet.  For  an  instant  she  looked 
at  him  in  silence.  Then — "I  would  have  you  leave 
me,  never  to  dare  come  into  my  presence  again,"  she 
said.  "And  now  I  choose  to  pass." 

Mechanically  he  gave  way,  and  she  swept  by  with 
lifted  head  and  the  proud  bearing  of  an  offended 
queen. 

Otto  was  stricken  dumb.  Dully  he  watched  her 
move  across  the  long  room  to  the  door  which  led 
out  into  a  corridor,  not  through  the  drawing-room. 
He  saw  the  changing  lights  and  shadows  on  her  satin 
dress,  as  she  passed  under  the  chandelier ;  he  saw  the 
reflection  of  its  whiteness  mirrored  on  the  polished 
floor.  She  was  beautiful  to  him  no  longer;  for  he 
hated  her  because  of  his  mistake,  and  because  she 


150  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

had  read  his  mind.  She  had  seen  the  truth  there, 
under  his  falsehoods,  as  he  saw  the  reflection  on  the 
surface  of  shining  oak.  She  knew  that  he  was  a 
moral  coward,  and  that,  had  she  accepted  his  fan- 
tastic offer,  he  would  never  have  ventured  to  enter 
the  lists  as  her  knight  against  the  Emperor.  For- 
tunately, she  had  undoubtedly  quarreled  with  Max- 
imilian, and  would  not  carry  tales.  It  would  indeed 
be  a  sorry  day  for  Otto  if  reconciliation  ever  came; 
and  if  by  some  strange  chance  of  the  future  it  seemed 
imminent,  he  must  not  let  it  come. 

"Heavens!  does  she  fancy  herself  an  Empress?" 
he  sneered  beneath  his  breath.  "Before  Eberhard 
has  finished  with  her,  she  may  not  even  be  what  she 
is  now!" 

His  ears  still  burned  as  if  she  had  struck  them. 
He  could  not  return  to  the  drawing-room  until  they 
had  cooled.  There  was  no  hope  for  him  now  with 
Mary  de  Courcy,  whatever  the  Chancellor's  mys- 
terious telegrams  might  contain,  but  he  was  too  furi- 
ous to  mourn  over  lost  hopes,  lost  opportunities. 
Eberhard  was  evidently  trying  to  learn  something 
to  the  girl's  disadvantage,  and  Otto's  aid  was  only 
to  have  been  bought  in  case  of  failure.  Now,  he  was 
in  a  mood  to  offer  it  for  nothing,  and  it  occurred  to 
him  that  he  would  ride  over  to  Schloss  Markstein 
early  in  the  morning. 


CHAPTER  X 


"THE  EMPEROR  WILL  UNDERSTAND' 


IT  was  for  the  refuge  of  isolation  that  Sylvia  fled 
to  her  own  room.  Between  her  bedchamber  and  the 
Grand  Duchess's  was  a  boudoir,  which  they  shared ; 
and  it  was  the  door  of  this  intermediate  room  that 
gave  admittance,  from  the  corridor  outside,  to  both. 
To  the  girl's  surprise,  as  she  entered — her  one  com- 
fort the  assurance  of  being  undisturbed — her  mother 
looked  reproachfully  up  from  a  pile  of  silken  cush- 
ions on  the  sofa.  Josephine  was  rubbing  her  hands, 
and  the  air  was  pervaded  with  the  pungent  fragrance 
of  sal  volatile. 

"I  thought  you  were  never  coming!"  ejaculated 
the  Grand  Duchess.  If  she  noticed  her  daughter's 
pallor,  she  believed  it  due  to  anxiety  about  herself. 

Sylvia  stared,  half  dazed,  unable  yet  to  separate 
her  mind  from  her  own  private  misfortunes.  "Never 
coming!"  she  echoed  mechanically.  "Why — are  you 
ill — did  you  expect  me?" 

"I  nearly  fainted  downstairs,"  returned  the  Grand 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

Duchess,  "and  it  is  entirely  your  fault.  You  ought 
.not  to  have  exposed  me,  at  my  age,  to  such  terrible 
shocks.  Josephine,  you  can  go." 

Sylvia  grew  cold  as  ice.  She  could  think  of  but 
one  explanation.  Otto  von  Markstein  had  not  been 
the  only  spy.  Somehow,  news  of  what  had  hap- 
pened in  the  garden  had  reached  the  Grand  Duch- 
ess, reducing  her  to  this  extremity.  The  Princess 
was  scarcely  conscious  of  hearing  the  door  close  after 
the  banished  Josephine,  yet  instinctively  she  waited 
for  the  click  of  the  latch.  "How  did  you  know?" 
she  asked  dully. 

"How  did  I  know?  I  had  a  telegram.  A  most 
alarming,  disconcerting  telegram.  The  question  is, 
how  did  you  know  that  I  knew,  and  how  did  you — 
did  I — oh,  I  am  so  distressed,  I  hardly  know  any- 
thing!" 

The  word  "telegram"  showed  Sylvia  that  some- 
how, somewhere,  misunderstanding  had  entered  in. 
Her  mother's  fretful  complaints  pried  among  her 
nerves  like  hot  wires ;  yet  could  she  have  believed  it, 
the  new  pain  was  the  best  of  counter-irritants. 

"Are  you  suffering  still,  dear?"  she  questioned, 
carefully  controlling  her  voice.  With  the  Grand 
Duchess,  it  was  always  best  to  go  back  to  the  be- 
ginning, not  to  attempt  picking  up  loose  ends  in  the 
middle ;  thus,  one  sooner  reached  the  end  of  a  tangle. 

"Yes,  I  am  ill,  very  ill  indeed.  Did  no  one  tell 
you,  no  one  send  you  to  me,  as  I  asked  ?" 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  153 

"I  have  seen  no  one  since  I  left  you — no  one,  that 
is,  who  could  tell  me  anything.  Won't  you  tell  me 
— now  ?" 

The  Grand  Duchess  pointed  a  plump,  dimpled 
forefinger  toward  a  sixteenth-century  writing-table. 
"The  telegram's  there,  if  you  care  to  see  it,"  she  re- 
marked crossly.  She  did  not  often  lose  her  temper, 
or  at  least,  not  for  long;  but  she  had  really  borne  a 
great  deal  of  late;  and,  as  she  had  observed,  it  was 
all  Sylvia's  fault;  therefore  it  was  Sylvia's  turn  to 
suffer  now. 

On  the  desk  lay  a  crumpled  piece  of  paper.  Sylvia 
picked  it  up  and  read,  written  in  English:  "Some- 
body making  inquiries  here  about  de  Courcys.  Beg 
to  advise  you  immediately  to  explain  all,  or  leave 
present  place  of  residence,  avoid  almost  certain  un- 
pleasantness. Have  just  heard  of  complications. — 
WEST/' 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  that?"  irritably  de- 
manded the  Duchess,  vexed  at  Sylvia's  calmness. 
"Isn't  that  enough  to  make  anyone  faint  ?  That,  I,  /, 
a  woman  in  my  position — should  be  forced  to  appear 
a — er — an  adventuress!  If  it  were  not  so  dreadful, 
it  would  be  absurd.  You  might  show  a  little  feeling, 
since  it  is  for  you  that  I  have  done  it  all." 

"I  have  plenty  of  feeling,  mother,"  said  Sylvia. 
"Only  I — seem  somehow  rather  stunned  just  now. 
I  suppose  Lady  West  means  that  busybodies  have 
been  trying  to  find  out  things  about  the  de  Courcys. 


154  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

>We  have  provided  for  most  contingencies,  but  we 
had  not  thought  of  spies — till  to-night." 

"I  allowed  myself  to  be  led  by  you,"  declared  the 
Grand  Duchess,  "when  I  ought  to  have  controlled 
you,  as  my  child.  I  should  never  have  allowed  my- 
self to  be  placed  in  such  an  ignominious  plight.  But 
here  I  am,  in  it;  and  here  you  are  also — which  is 
quite  as  bad,  if  not  worse.  You  have  brought  us 
into  this  trouble,  Sylvia;  the  least  you  can  do  is  to 
get  us  out.  And,  after  all" — brightening  a  little — 
"there  is,  thank  goodness,  a  way  to  do  that.  It 
ought  not  to  be  so  very  difficult." 

"What  way — do  you  mean?" 

"I  wonder  you  ask — since  there  is  only  one.  Stop 
this  foolish  child's-game  that  you  have  deluded  me 
into  playing;  explain  everything  to  the  Emperor  and 
to  Baroness  von  Lynar,  and  be  prepared  to  turn  the 
tables  on  our  enemy — whoever  that  may  be.  Your 
dear  father  always  said  that  I  had  a  head  for  emer- 
gencies, once  I  could  get  the  upper  hand  of  my 
nerves,  and  I  hope —  I  think,  he  was  right." 

"But  what  you  propose  is  impossible,  mother." 

Sylvia  spoke  in  a  low,  constrained  voice,  and  the 
Grand  Duchess,  rising  from  among  her  pillows,  sud- 
denly observed  for  the  first  time  that  there  was  some- 
thing strange  in  the  girl's  manner  and  appearance. 
She  admired  her  daughter,  as  a  bewildered  hen- 
mother  might  admire  the  beautiful,  incomprehensible 
ball  of  golden  fluff  that  sails  calmly  away  beyond 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  155 

her  control  in  a  terrifying  expanse  of  water,  while 
she  herself  can  only  cluck  protest  from  the  bank. 
The  Grand  Duchess  had  almost  invariably  yielded 
her  will  to  Sylvia's  in  the  end;  but  she  told  herself 
that  she  had  done  so  once  too  often,  and  the  weak- 
nesses of  her  past  buttressed  her  obstinacy  in  the 
present. 

"I  tell  you  it  isn't  impossible/  she  exclaimed.  "It 
can't  be  impossible,  when  it's  the  only  way  left  to 
save  our  dignity.  We  mustn't  let  our  enemies  have 
the  first  move.  You  meant  to  make  a  sort  of  dra- 
matic revlation,  sooner  or  later.  Well,  it  must  be 
sooner,  that  is  all,  my  dear." 

"Ah,  I  meant — I  meant!"  echoed  Sylvia,  the 
sound  of  a  sob  in  her  voice.  "Nothing  has  happened 
as  I  meant,  mother.  You  were  right ;  I  was  wrong. 
We  ought  never  to  have  come  to  Rhaetia." 

The  Grand  Duchess's  heart  gave  a  thump.  If 
Sylvia  were  thus  ready  to  admit  herself  in  the  wrong, 
without  a  struggle,  then  matters  must  indeed  have 
reached  an  alarming  pass.  Not  a  jest ;  not  a  single 
flippancy!  The  poor  lady  was  seriously  distressed. 

"Not — come — to — Rhaetia?'  she  repeated  as  in- 
credulously as  if  she  had  not  herself  lately  made  the 
same  assertion.  "Why — why — what" — 

"I  scarcely  know  how  to  tell  you,"  said  Sylvia, 
with  lowered  lashes.  "But  I  suppose  I  must." 

"Of  course  you  must.  I  thought  you  looked  up- 
set. You  were  with  him — in  the  music-room.  Yes; 


156  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

I  remember.  Did  you  try  to  explain,  and  he — was 
it  as  I  feared,  only  this  evening  before  dinner? 
wouldn't  he  forgive  the  decep " 

"He  knows  nothing  about  it." 

"Well,  what  then?  Don't  keep  me  in  suspense. 
I've  had  enough  to  try  me  without  that."  And  the 
Grand  Duchess  raised  a  little  jewelled  vinaigrette  to 
her  nostrils.  It  had  been  given  her  by  Queen  Vic- 
toria, and  was  particularly  supporting  in  a  time  of 
trial. 

Sylvia's  lips  were  so  dry  that  she  found  difficulty 
in  articulating.  There  were  some  things  it  was  ex- 
tremely embarrassing  to  tell  one's  mother.  "We — 
went  out  into  the  garden — to  see  the  moon — or 
something,"  she  managed  to  begin.  "He  asked  me 
to  be — his  wife.  Oh — wait,  wait,  please !  Don't  say 
anything  yet !  I  didn't  know  what  to  make  of  it,  and 
— he  had  to  explain.  He  put  it  as  inoffensively  as 
he  could,  but — oh!  mother,  I — I  was  only  good 
enough  to  be  his  morganatic  wife !" 

The  storm  had  burst  at  last.  There  had  always 
been  mental  and  temperamental  barriers  between  the 
parent  and  child ;  but,  after  all,  a  mother  is  a  mother; 
and  nothing  better  has  ever  been  invented  yet.  Sylvia 
fell  on  her  knees  by  the  sofa,  and,  burying  her  head 
in  her  mother's  lap,  sobbed  as  if  parting  with  her 
youth. 

The  Grand  Duchess  thought  of  the  last  time  .when 
the  girl  had  so  knelt  beside  her,  the  bright  hair  under 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  157 

her  caressing  hand;  and  the  contrast  between  then 
and  now  brought  motherly  tears  to  her  eyes.  That 
time  had  been  in  the  dear  old  river  garden  at  Rich- 
mond, when  Sylvia  had  coaxed  away  her  promise  to 
help  forward  this  very  scheme — this  disastrous,  mis- 
erable, mad  scheme.  Poor  little  Sylvia,  so  young,  so 
inexperienced,  so  thoroughly  girlish  for  all  her 
naughty  obstinacy  and  recklessness,  sweet  and  loving 
and  impulsive !  The  child  had  been  so  full  of  hope 
then;  why,  only  a  few  hours  ago,  she  had  said  she 
was  the  happiest  creature  on  earth ! 

All  the  Grand  Duchess's  resentment  melted  away 
as  she  rocked  the  sobbing  girl  in  the  comfortable 
cradle  of  her  arms,  murmuring  and  crying  over  her 
— the  hen-mother,  over  the  golden  duckling  that  had 
ventured  into  water  too  rough  and  treacherous. 

"There,  there,  dear,"  she  crooned.  "It  isn't  so 
very  dreadful ;  not  half  as  bad  as  you  made  me  think. 
I'm  sure  he  meant  well.  It  showed  at  anyrate  that 
he  loved  you.  Just  at  first,  it  came  as  rather  a  shock, 
of  course ;  knowing  who  we  are ;  but  if  you  had  really 
been  Miss  de  Courcy,  I  suppose — I  suppose  it  would 
have  been  a  great  compliment." 

"I  call  it  an  insult ;  I  called  it  so  to  him,'  gasped 
Sylvia  in  the  midst  of  sobs. 

"Oh  dear  me,  not  as  bad  as  that — not  at  all! 
Many  ladies  of  very  high  standing  have  been  in  sucH 
positions,  and  everyone  has  thoroughly  respected 
them.  Though,  of  course,  such  a  thing  would  never 


158  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

do  for  you,  you  must  reflect  that  Maximilian  couldn't 
know  that." 

"He  ought  to  have  known — known  that  I  would 
never  consent.  That  no  woman  with  English  blood 
in  her  veins  would  ever  consent.  It  was  an  insult. 
It  has  shown  how  poor  was  his  estimate  of  me.  It 
was — it  was !  It  has  broken  my  heart.  It  has  killed 
me.  Oh,  mother,  it's  all  at  an  end — everything  I 
lived  for.  I  can  never  bear  to  see  him  after  this." 

"You'll  feel  differently  to-morrow,  pet,"  purred 
the  Grand  Duchess,  smoothing  the  tumbled  waves  of 
yellow  hair. 

"Never!" 

"You  are  too  young  fully  to  understand  the  eti- 
quette of  Courts.  Remember,  his  point  of  view  is 
different  from  yours." 

"That  is  the  reason  I  am  so  miserable.  His  point 
of  view  is  hateful.  I  want  to  go  away — to  go  away 
at  once." 

Her  earnest  emphasis  forced  conviction.  She 
really  meant  it.  This  was  no  girlish  whim,  to  be  re- 
pented in  a  few  hours,  a  lovers'  quarrel  to  be  made 
up  to-morrow.  The  Grand  Duchess's  kindly  face, 
already  deeply  clouded,  was  utterly  obscured  in 
gloom.  The  small  features  seemed  lost  behind  their 
expression  of  distress. 

"But  surely  you  will  tell  him  the  truth,  or  let  me, 
and  give  him  a  chance  to — to  speak  again?  Now, 
more  than  ever " 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  159 

"What  good  would  it  do  ?  Everything  is  spoiled. 
Of  course,  if  he  knew  I  were  Sylvia  of  Eltzburg- 
Neuwald,  he  would  be  sorry  for  what  had  happened, 
even  if  he  thought  I  had  brought  it  all  on  myself. 
But  that  would  be  too  late  to  mend  anything.  Don't 
you  see,  don't  you  understand,  that  I  valued  his  love 
because  it  was  given  to  me,  just  me,  not  the  Prin- 
cess ?  If  he  said,  'Now  that  I  know  you  are  Sylvia, 
I  can  have  the  pleasure  of  offering  my  right,  instead 
of  my  left  hand  to  you,  as  my  wife,  and  everything 
can  be  very  pleasant  and  regular/  I  should  not  care 
for  that  at  all  ?  No,  we  must  go  home,  mother ;  and 
the  Emperor  Maximilian  of  Rhaetia  must  be  in- 
formed that  Sylvia  of  Eltzburg-Neuwald  has  decided 
not  to  marry.  That  will  be  our  one  revenge — the 
only  one  we  can  have — that  little  slap  in  the  face  to 
His  Imperial  Majesty;  so  pitiful  a  slap,  since  he  will 
never  know  that  Princess  Sylvia  who  won't  marry 
him,  and  Miss  de  Courcy  who  can't,  are  one  and  the 
same.  But,  mother,  I  did  love  him — I  did  love  him 
so!" 

"Then  forget  and  forgive — and  be  happy,  while 
you  can." 

"I  can't.  I've  just  told  you  why.  Oh,  do  let  us 
make  our  plans  to  get  out  of  this  hateful  house  as 
soon  as  possible." 

The  Grand  Duchess  resigned  herself  to  the  inevit- 
able, and  only  a  deep  sigh  told  the  tale  of  the  effort 
resignation  cost  her.  For  once  she  was  expected  to 


160  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

take  the  initiative,  and  the  responsibility  was  a  stim- 
ulant; this  one  consolation  was  left  her. 

"Well,5  she  said,  after  a  moment's  abstruse  re- 
flection, "the  telegram  will  give  us  an  excuse.  I  was 
so  overcome  on  reading  it  that  I  had  to  sit  down 
again  after  getting  suddenly  up  from  my  chair  and 
borrow  the  Baroness's  smelling-salts — poor,  inade- 
quate Rhaetian  stuff.  Everyone  was  alarmed,  and 
I  explained,  without  going  into  particulars,  that  I 
had  received  most  disturbing  news  from  England. 
Directly  I  felt  more  like  myself,  I  came  upstairs,  re- 
questing that  you  should  be  sent  to  me,  when  you 
returned — though  you  were  not  to  be  specially  called. 
I  begged  the  Baroness  not  to  be  anxious,  but  she 
said  that,  before  she  went  to  bed,  I  really  must  allow 
her  to  stop  at  the  door  and  inquire  how  I  was.  We 
might  say  to  her  that  the  telegram  had  compelled 
our  immediate  return  to  England." 

"Listen,"  whispered  Sylvia.  "There's  someone  at 
the  door  now." 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  and,  with  the  marvellous 
facility  for  meeting  a  conventional  emergency  pos- 
sessed by  all  women  in  palace  or  tenement,  between 
the  time  of  rising  and  walking  to  the  door,  she  had 
conquered  the  disorder  of  her  countenance..  Her 
hair  was  smoothed  back  into  perfection ;  the  laces  on 
her  dress  had  fallen  into  their  old  graceful  lines ;  her 
face,  though  flushed,  would  show  no  signs  of  tears 
in  the  softly  shaded  light. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  161 

Sylvia  herself  opened  the  door  and  gracefully  be- 
sought the  inquiring  Baroness  to  come  in.  Immedi- 
ately after  the  scene  in  the  garden,  she  could  not 
have  done  this  so  quietly;  but  she  had  cried  her 
heart  out  now,  and  reviled  the  offender  to  a  sym- 
pathetic audience,  thus  facilitating  the  return  of  self- 
control.  Even  if  Baroness  von  Lynar  guessed  that 
she  had  been  weeping,  it  would  only  be  put  down  to 
the  score  of  that  mysterious  "bad  news." 

"How  good  of  you !"  breathed  the  Grand  Duchess, 
with  a  less  coherent  un'dertone  of  appreciation  from 
Sylvia.  "Oh  yes,  thank  you,  so  much  better;  quite 
well  again,  though  still  very  anxious.  Somebody 
must  have  been  kind  enough  to  tell  dear  Mary,  for 
here  she  is,  you  see ;  and  she  and  I  have  been  talking 
matters  over.  We  are  quite  desolated  at  breaking 
our  delightful  visit  suddenly  short,  but  unluckily  it 
can't  be  helped.  This  unfortunate  news  from  home ! 
We  must  positively  not  lose  an  hour  in  returning." 

Baroness  von  Lynar  was  genuinely  disconcerted, 
though  perhaps  her  guests  would  scarcely  have  been 
flattered  had  they  divined  the  true  cause  of  her  in- 
tense desire  to  detain  them.  Miss  de  Courcy  had 
been  the  bright  particular  star  of  the  house  party  at 
Lynarberg,  as  the  mistress  of  the  castle  delicately 
declared,  and  it  was  grievous  that  the  sky  must  be 
robbed  of  its  most  brilliant  ornament.  But  it  was  far 
more  grievous  that  Maximilan  should  be  annoyed, 


162  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

and  the  Baroness's  own  pretty,  secret  little  scheme 
probably  be  brought  to  confusion. 

"It  is  too  cruel!'  she  exclaimed,  with  unwonted 
sincerity.  "What  shall  we  do  without  you?  We 
could  better  have  spared  any  others  among  our 
guests.  Our  poor  party  will  be  hopelessly  shattered 
by  your  loss.  Could  you  not  wire  home  that  you  are 
coming  at  your  earliest  convenience,  dear  Lady  de 
Courcy,  and  stay  with  us  at  least  until  the  day  after 
to-morrow,  when  the  Emperor's  visit  will  be  over  ?" 

"Alas !  I  am  afraid  we  could  not  do  even  that,'* 
regretted  the  Grand  Duchess,  her  eyes  on  Sylvia's 
face.  "It  is  necessary  that  we  reach  England  as 
soon  as  possible.  We  were  thinking  of  quite  an 
early  train  to-morrow.  You  will  forgive  us,  I  know, 
dear  Baroness  von  Lynar ;  but  we  have  both  been  so 
upset  by  these  sad  tidings  that  we  shall  hardly  be 
equal  to  facing  any  of  our  kind  friends  here  again. 
These  things  are  so  unnerving,  you  know — and  I 
give  way  easily  of  late  years.  As  a  great  favour  to 
us  both,  pray  mention  to  no  one  that  we  are  going, 
until  we  have  actually  gone.  If  you  would  allow  us 
to  leave  our  adieux  to  be  said  by  you,  we  would  beg 
you  for  a  carriage  after  an  early  cup  of  coffee  in  our 
rooms;  then  we  could  pick  up  Miss  Collinson  and 
the  luggage  we  left  at  the  Hohenburgerhof,  and 
catch  the  Orient  express  from  Salzbriick  to  Paris." 

The  Baroness  was  aghast  at  her  own  defeat  and 
her  powerlessness  to  retrieve  it.  For  once  she  failed 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  163 

in  tact.  "But  the  Emperor?"  she  .exclaimed.  "He 
will  be  deeply  hurt  if  he  is  denied  the  sad  privilege  of 
bidding  you  farewell." 

The  Grand  Duchess  hesitated,  and  Sylvia  entered 
the  conversational  lists  for  the  first  time.  "The  Em- 
peror will  understand,"  she  said  quietly;  "I  said 
good-bye  to  him — for  us  both — to-night." 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  LAST  OF  THE  MAGIC  CITRONS 

BREAKFAST  at  Schloss  Lynarberg  was  an  informal 
meal.  Those  who  were  socially  inclined  at  that  hour 
appeared ;  those  who  loved  not  their  kind  until  later 
in  the  day,  broke  their  fast  in  the  safe  seclusion  of 
their  own  apartments. 

Maximilian  had  shown  himself  at  the  breakfast- 
table  every  morning  since  the  beginning  of  his  visit, 
and  it  had  been  Sylvia's  usual  custom  also  to  be 
present.  But  Lady  de  Courcy  invariably  kept  her 
room  till  later,  and  on  one  occasion  the  daughter  had 
borne  her  mother  company.  On  the  morning  after 
the  misunderstanding  in  the  garden,  therefore,  the 
Emperor  was  only  disappointed,  not  surprised,  to 
find  that  Sylvia  did  not  come. 

He  had  spent  another  wakeful  night,  but  he  could 
not  bring  himself  to  believe  that  Sylvia  would  never 
listen  to  him,  that  she  would  not  yet  be  brought  to 
see  the  future  through  his  eyes. 

It  was  his  last  whole  day  at  Lynarberg,  but,  by 
164 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  165 

his  special  request,  no  regular  programme  of  enter- 
tainment had  been  made.  As  breakfast  progressed, 
Maximilian  turned  over  in  his  mind  plan  after  plan 
for  another  meeting  with  Sylvia,  and  hoped  that,  by 
this  time,  she  would  be  as  ready  to  receive  his  over- 
tures as  he  to  make  them.  He  longed  to  write  her 
a  letter,  imploring  her  to  come  to  him;  but  feared, 
unless  he  could  make  his  first  appeal  in  person,  that 
he  might  defeat  his  own  object.  It  would  be  better, 
perhaps,  to  wait  until  she  was  actually  in  his  pres- 
ence, then  carry  her  away  from  the  eyes  of  others, 
by  some  bold  stroke. 

But  she  did  not  come,  even  when  for  half  an  hour 
they  had  all  been  strolling  in  the  quaint  pleasaunce, 
where  the  white  peacocks  spread  their  jewelled  tails 
and  shrilly  disputed  for  possession  of  the  sundial. 
The  Baroness,  who  walked  by  the  Emperor's  side, 
and  appeared  singularly  distraite,  despite  her  con- 
stant efforts  at  repartee,  at  length  proposed  that 
they  should  row  out  again  to  Cupid's  Isle.  The 
morning  was  so  fine,  and  the  red  October  lilies 
which  had  been  in  bud  there  the  other  day  ought  to 
be  open  by  now. 

Maximilian  approved  the  idea.  "Shall  you  not 
send  for  Miss  de  Courcy  ?"  he  inquired,  with  a  simu- 
lated carelessness  at  which  Malvine  could  have 
laughed — had  she  not  been  more  inclined  to  weep. 
"I  think  I  remember  hearing  her  say  that  there  are 


166  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

no  such  lilies  in  England,  and  that  she  would  like 
to  see  them  in  fuller  bloom." 

The  Baroness  glanced  quickly  behind  her.  None 
of  the  others  were  within  earshot,  if  she  spoke  in  a 
low  voice.  "Oh,  but  you  have  forgotten,  have  you 
not,  your  Majesty?  Miss  de  Courcy  and  her 
mother  have  already  gone." 

He  turned  so  white,  under  the  coat  of  brown  the 
mountains  had  given,  that  Malvine  was  startled. 
She  had  believed  Sylvia — more  or  less — supposing 
until  now  that  the  Emperor  had  actually  been  made 
aware  of  the  intended  flitting.  There  had  been  an 
affecting  parting  perhaps,  she  had  told  herself;  and 
for  his  sake  she  had  refrained  from  mentioning  the 
de  Courcys  at  breakfast  in  the  presence  of  the  other 
guests.  For  the  last  few  moments  she  had  been  im- 
patiently waiting  for  Maximilian  to  introduce  the 
subject,  hoping  that  he  might  be  confidentially  in- 
clined ;  but  it  was  a  genuine  surprise  to  discover  that 
he  had  really  been  kept  in  ignorance.  Malvine  was 
very  angry  with  Sylvia's  deception;  for,  had  she 
dreamed,  in  time,  that  the  Emperor  did  not  know  the 
girl  was  going,  she  would  slyly  have  given  him  a 
chance  to  follow,  if  he  chose.  Now,  it  was  in  all 
probability  already  too  late  for  this. 

"Where  have  they  gone  ?"  he  asked — the  only  sign 
of  feeling  in  the  pallor  of  his  face  and  the  fire  in  his 
eyes. 

"To  Salzbruck,  your  Majesty." 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  167 

"OH,  is  that  all  ?  Then  they  are  coming  back ;  or, 
at  least,  they  are  not  leaving  Rhaetia  ?" 

"I  am  afraid  that  they  are  leaving." 

"When?" 

"To-day,  by  the  Orient  express.  I  did  all  I  could 
to  keep  them.  But  some  bad  news  reached  Lady  de 
Courcy  last  night,  in  a  telegram  from  England. 
They  both  insisted  that  they  must  go  home  at  once, 
begging  as  a  favour,  since  they  felt  unequal  to  fare- 
wells, that  no  one  should  know  until  they  were  gone 
— except,  of  course,  your  Majesty.  Miss  de  Courcy 
said  that — you  knew;  that  you  would  understand." 

The  Emperor  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  Mai- 
vine  would  have  glanced  up  at  him  from  under  her 
artificially  darkened  lashes,  if  she  had  dared.  But 
she  did  not  dare.  Still,  she  was  beginning  to  hope 
that  the  feeling  she  would  fain  have  seen  implanted 
in  his  heart  had  already  taken  root  so  deeply  that  it 
would  not  soon  perish.  In  that  case,  after  all,  she 
would  have  thwarted  the  Chancellor — for  a  time  at 
least;  since  a  man,  even  when  he  is  an  Emperor, 
cannot  readily  be  persuaded  to  marry  one  woman 
when  his  heart  is  aching  with  love  for  another. 

When  Maximilian  did  speak,  his  voice  was  very 
quiet — aggravatingly  quiet,  thought  Malvine — but 
his  eyes  were  even  brighter  than  before.  It  was  a 
dangerous,  rather  than  a  pleasant  brightness;  and 
Malvine,  who  had  no  cause  to  fear  its  menace  for 
herself,  wondered  what  the  light  betokened. 


168  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"Miss  de  Courcy  did  speak  of  leaving  earlier  than 
she  had  expected,"  he  said.  "But  if  she  gave  me 
reason  to  suppose  it  would  be  so  soon,  I  certainly  did 
not  understand.  I  am  sorry  that  there  was  bad  news 
from  England." 

So  also  was  Malvine;  but  she  began  now  to  ask 
herself  if  the  news  alone  had  sufficed  to  snatch  her 
guests  so  suddenly  away. 

"Is  it  long  since  they  left  Lynarberg?"  the  Em- 
peror added. 

"They  went  at  about  half-past  seven  this  morning, 
before  anyone  was  up,  except  my  husband  and  my- 
self and  the  servants.  By  half -past  eight  they  would 
have  joined  their  companion,  who  remained  at  the 
Hohenburgerhof.  Then  there  would  have  been  a 
little  packing  to  oversee,  perhaps,  and — the  Orient 
express  is  due  in  Salzbruck,  I  think,  at  precisely  one 
o'clock.  It  is  now" — she  glanced  half  apologetically 
at  the  watch  in  her  bracelet — "it  is  now  five  minutes 
past  twelve,  so  that  in  less  than  an  hour  the  prettiest 
woman  who  ever  came  to  Salzbruck  will  have  van- 
ished again."  And,  as  Malvine  von  Lynar  spoke,  she 
sighed. 

The  blood  rushed  to  Maximilian's  face.  He  had 
a  choice  between  two  evils.  If  he  pursued  and  over- 
took the  girl,  he  might  persuade  her  to  hear  reason ; 
at  least,  she  would  see  that  he  was  no  laggard  in 
love.  But  to  follow,  to  cut  short  the  visit  at  Lynar- 
berg, which  should  not  have  ended  till  next  day, 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  169 

would  be  virtually  to  take  the  world  into  his  secret. 
A  month  ago  such  a  question  (when  yielding  to  in- 
clination meant  a  humbling  of  his  pride  as  man  and 
Emperor)  would  have  decided  itself.  But  within 
these  last  days  Maximilian  had  learned  that  his  val- 
ued strength  of  will  in  the  past  had  been  ruled,  more 
or  less,  by  the  limitations  of  his  desire.  Now,  he 
wanted  to  do  a  certain  thing  more  than  he  had  ever 
wanted  anything  in  the  whole  course  of  his  life,  and 
the  question  was  mentally  settled  as  quickly  as  it 
would  have  been  a  month  ago;  the  only  difference 
being  that  it  was  settled  in  the  opposite  way. 

"Baroness  von  Lynar,  you  and  I  are  old  friends," 
he  said  hastily. 

"I  value  your  friendship  above  all  things,  your 
Majesty,  and  would  keep  it  at  any  cost." 

"Then  keep  something  else  for  me  as  well;  a  se- 
cret— though  it  may  not  be  a  secret  long.  You  have 
seen  me  with  Miss  de  Courcy.  And  you  have 
guessed  something,  perhaps?" 
•  "Women  are  ever  quick  to  jump  at  romantic  con- 
clusions. But " 

"I  am  answered.  A  moment  has  come  when  I 
must  choose  between  speaking  frankly  with  you  or 
leaving  you  to  suspect  what  you  will.  I  choose 
frankness.  There's  nearly  an  hour  yet  before  the 
Orient  express  leaves  Salzbriick,  and  you  say  Miss 
de  Courcy  is  going  with  it.  I  can't  let  her  go  with- 


170  PRINCESS  SYLVIA: 

out  seeing  her  again.  I  want — but  you  know  what 
I  want." 

"You  want  your  horse  and  your  aide-de-camp's 
horse  saddled ;  you  want  to  ride  away  now,  at  once, 
to  catch  the  train  before  it  leaves  the  station;  and 
you  want  me  to  give  some  plausible  reason  which 
will  account  to  everyone  for  your  sudden  departure. 
Anything,  so  that  it  is  not  connected  with  Miss  de 
Courcy.  Am  I  right?" 

"Absolutely.  If  I  get  off  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
I  can  just  do  it." 

"I  will  slip  into  the  house,  your  Majesty,  and 
send  a  servant  at  once  to  the  stables.  Captain  von 
Lowenstein  shall  be  summoned,  and  you  can  be  on 
the  road  in  ten  minutes. 

"I'll  go  with  you  to  the  house,  my  friend." 

"Everybody  shall  be  given  to  understand  that  you 
are  called  away  from  Lynarberg  on  pressing  busi- 
ness, but  that  you  expect  to  return  in  the  afternoon. 
If  you  find  it  best  not  to  come,  send  a  wire  saying 
that  you  are  detained.  All  will  be  deeply  disap- 
pointed; but  no  one  will  guess  the  truth,  and  more 
than  that,  no  one  will  talk." 

By  this  time  they  were  at  the  house  steps.  Mai- 
vine  flew  in  to  give  orders,  while  Maximilian  waited, 
his  eyes  on  his  watch.  Four  minutes  later  Captain 
von  Lowenstein,  the  Emperor's  aide-de-camp  (who 
had  been  in  the  act  of  proposing  to  pretty  Baroness 
Maria  Vedera),  stood  ready  to  receive  his  master's 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  171 

orders.  Ten  minutes  more,  and  the  two  soldierly 
figures  rode  at  a  gallop  out  from  the  park  gates  at 
Lynarberg. 

"We're  going  to  the  station,  to  catch  the  Orient 
express,  von  Lowenstein,"  said  Maximilian.  "I 
have — promised  myself  to  say  good-bye  to  some 
friends." 

"Were  you  aware,  your  Majesty,"  asked  the  aide- 
de-camp,  "that  the  time-table  has  just  been  changed 
for  the  autumn  ?  The  Orient  express  leaves  ten  min- 
utes earlier  than  it  has  during  the  summer." 

The  Emperor  used  a  strong  word.  "Are  you  cer- 
tain, von  Lowenstein?" 

"Certain,  your  Majesty.  I  looked  out  the  time 
for  my  sister,  who  goes  to  Paris  next  week.  The 
new  table  only  came  into  use  yesterday." 

"I'll  kill  my  horse  under  me  rather  than  lose  the 
train,"  said  the  Emperor.  And  he  loved  Arabian 
Selim  well,  as  von  Lowenstein  knew, 

"We've  just  a  chance  of  doing  it  without  that, 
your  Majesty.  It's  scarcely  five  miles  now." 

They  rode  as  if  their  lives  were  at  stake.  And  they 
rode  without  a  word.  At  last  they  came  to  the  sub- 
urbs, then  into  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  In  the 
distance,  a  church  clock  chimed  the  quarter  before 
one.  The  two  looked  at  each  other.  Five  minutes, 
and  the  station  was  but  a  mile  away.  They  would 
do  the  trick  yet! 

The   upright   line   between   Maximilian's   black 


17«  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

brows  relaxed.  He  threw  up  his  head  and  smiled 
like  a  boy,  looking — Lowenstein  thought — as  he 
looked  when  they  camped  in  the  Weisshorn  and  shot 
chamois. 

"You  shall  have  something  to  make  you  remember 
to-day,  if  all  goes  well,"  he  said  to  the  aide-de- 
camp ;  then  drew  in  his  breath  sharply,  for  Selim  had 
stumbled.  A  dozen  yards  away,  on  the  dusty  white 
of  the  road,  lay  a  black  crescent — Selim's  shoe. 

Quick  as  light,  Maximilian  sprang  off.  "Give  me 
your  mare,  von  Lowenstein,"  he  said.  "I  must  go 
on  alone." 

So  they  made  the  change,  and  the  younger  man 
watched  his  master  disappear  in  a  cloud  of  dust,  as 
he,  on  Selim's  back,  followed  slowly  after.  And  he 
wished  that  he  knew  whether  the  little  Baroness  Ma- 
rie would  have  said  yes  or  no,  and  whether  the  Em- 
peror's business  with  the  Orient  express  were  busi- 
ness of  state  or  love. 

Kohinoor  had  not  the  staying  power  of  Selim ;  she 
was  good  for  a  spurt  of  speed;  but  she  knew  when 
she  had  had  enough,  and  no  mortal  power  could  per- 
suade her  otherwise,  when  she  thought  that  such  a 
time  had  arrived.  People  stared  to  see  a  man  urg- 
ing a  smoking  thoroughbred  through  the  broad 
Bahnhofstrasse  in  Salzbriick,  at  a  speed  forbidden 
within  the  town  limits,  and  stared  still  more  at  be- 
holding a  gendarme  leap  forward  with  a  warning 
shout,  then  blunder  back  again,  speechless,  with  a 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  173 

crimson  face  under  his  shining  helmet.  Horse  and 
man  dashed  by  so  madly  that  few  could  tell  whether 
the  rider  were  a  person  of  importance  at  the  Court, 
or  a  stranger.  But  a  soldier  of  cavalry  swaggering 
away  from  barracks  with  a  friend,  said,  "Do  you 
know  who  that  is?" 

"By  the  way  he  rides  I  should  say  it  was  his  Sa- 
tanic Majesty,"  declared  the  other,  a  country  recruit. 

"You're  not  far  wrong  maybe ;  but,  all  the  same, 
it  is  His  Majesty  our  Emperor,"  replied  the  first. 

The  hands  of  the  big  white  clock-face  looking 
down  from  the  Bahnhof  tower  pointed  at  five  min- 
utes to  one,  when  Maximilian  reined  up  the  mare  be- 
fore the  main  entrance,  and  bade  a  dienstmann  hold 
his  horse,  as  if  he  had  been  a  common  townsman. 
Something  the  fellow  shouted  about  being  there  to 
carry  luggage,  not  to  hold  horses  (for  he  did  not 
know  the  Emperor  by  sight),  but  Maximilian  waited 
neither  to  hear  nor  argue.  He  sprang  up  the  broad 
stone  stairway,  three  steps  at  a  time. 

"Has  the  Orient  express  gone  yet  ?"  he  demanded 
of  the  man  at  the  door  of  the  departure  platform. 

"Five  minutes  ago,"  returned  the  official,  not 
troubling  to  look  up. 

An  unreasoning  fury  against  fate  raged  in  Maxi- 
milian's breast.  He  ruled  this  country,  yet  every- 
thing in  it  seemd  to  combine  in  a  plot  to  thwart  his 
dearest  desire.  For  a  moment  he  felt  as  if  he  had 
come  up  against  a  blank  wall  and  saw  no  present 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

way  of  getting  round  it;  but  that  was  only  for  an 
instant,  since  the  Emperor  was  not  a  man  of  slow 
decisions.  His  first  step  was  to  inquire  what  was 
the  earliest  stop  made  by  the  Orient  express.  In 
three  hours,  he  learned,  it  would  reach  Wandeck,  the 
last  station  on  the  Rhaetian  side  of  the  frontier. 
What  was  the  next  train,  then,  leaving  Salzbriick  for 
Wandeck  ?  In  twenty  minutes,  a  personenzug  would 
go  out.  After  that,  there  would  be  no  other  train  for 
two  hours.  The  personenzug  would  arrive  at  Wan- 
deck  only  fifty  minutes  earlier  than  the  schnellzu'g 
following  so  much  later,  therefore  most  people  pre- 
ferred to  wait.  But  Maximilian,  having  gathered 
this  intelligence,  was  not  of  the  majority;  he  chose 
the  fifty  minutes  in  Wandeck,  for  even  if  he  courted 
publicity  by  engaging  a  special,  so  long  a  time  must 
pass  before  it  could  be  ready  that  he  would  gain  no 
advantage. 

Before  taking  his  ticket,  however,  he  telephoned 
the  Hohenburgerhof,  to  satisfy  himself  beyond  doubt 
that  the  de  Courceys  had  actually  gone.  There  was 
a  delay  of  a  few  minutes  before  the  answer  came; 
but  presently  he  was  informed  that  the  ladies  had 
left  the  hotel.  This  decided  his  plan  of  action  once 
for  all,  and  the  short  remaining  interval  before  the 
departure  of  the  slow  train  he  snatched  for  writing 
out  two  telegrams,  one  to  Baroness  von  Lynar,  the 
other  to  a  person  more  important. 

The  first  words  of  the  latter  ran  fluently.    "Miss 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  175 

de  Courcy,  Orient  express,  care  of  the  stationmaster, 
Wandeck,"  he  wrote.  "I  beg  that  you  will  leave  the 
train  here  and  wait  for  me.  I  am  following,  and 
will  arrive  in  Wandeck  three  hours  after  you.  I  will 
look  for  you  and  hope  to  find  you  at  the  Maximilian- 
hof." 

So  far  it  was  very  simple.  He  had  expressed  his 
wish  and  signified  his  intention,  which  would  have 
been  enough  if  Miss  de  Courcy  were  a  loyal  subject 
of  his  own.  But  unfortunately  she  had  exhibited 
no  signs  of  subjection ;  and  the  question  arose,  would 
she  grant  the  most  ardently  expressed  request,  unless 
he  could  offer  some  new  inducement  ?  On  reflection, 
he  was  ruefully  compelled  to  admit  that  she  probably 
would  not.  Yet  what  had  he  to  urge  that  he  had  not 
urged  last  night?  What  could  he  say,  at  this  elev- 
enth hour,  which  would  keep  her  from  passing  for 
ever  beyond  his  dominions  and  beyond  hope  of  re- 
call? 

As  he  stood,  pen  in  hand  (each  moment  of  hesi- 
tation at  the  risk  of  missing  his  chosen  train),  a  cu- 
rious memory  came  to  him.  He  recalled  a  fairy  tale 
which  had  been  a  favourite  of  his  childhood,  and  had 
helped  to  form  his  resolve  that,  when  he  grew  to 
manhood,  he  would  never  miss  an  opportunity 
through  vascillation.  The  story  had  for  its  hero  a 
prince  who  went  abroad  to  seek  his  fortune,  and  re- 
ceived from  one  of  the  Fates  three  magic  citrons 
which  he  was  told  to  cut  by  the  side  of  a  fountain, 


176  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

Obeying,  from  the  first  citron  sprang  a  beautiful 
maiden,  who  demanded  a  drink  of  water ;  and  while 
the  prince  gazed  in  amazement,  vanished.  With  the 
second  citron,  it  was  the  same ;  and  the  third  maiden 
would  have  been  irrevocably  lost  also,  had  not  the 
youth  recovered  his  presence  of  mind  at  the  last 
moment. 

Now,.  Maximilian  said  to  himself,  his  knife  was 
on  the  rind  of  the  last  citron.  Let  him  think  wall 
before  he  cut,  that  his  one  remaining  chance  of  hap- 
piness might  not  vanish  like  the  two  fairy  maidens. 

He  had  believed  it  impossible  for  a  man  to  love 
a  woman  more  than  he  loved  Mary  de  Courcy ;  but, 
knowing  that  he  was  on  the  point  of  losing  her,  he 
found  his  love  a  thousandfold  greater  than  he  had 
known.  The  sacrifice  he  had  been  ready  to  make  had 
loomed  large  in  his  eyes ;  now,  it  was  nothing,  since 
it  had  not  sufficed  to  win  or  keep  her.  What,  then, 
could  he  do  ?  What  other  resource  had  he  left  ? 

Suddenly  it  seemed  that  a  great  light  shone  before 
his  eyes,  like  a  meteor  bursting,  and  a  voice  whis- 
pered in  his  ear,  a  thought  that  ran  like  fire  through 
his  veins. 

Why  not?  he  asked  of  his  heart.  Who  was  bold 
enough  to  say  "no"  to  the  Emperor's  "yes"  ?  Had 
he  not  proved  more  than  once  that  his  strength,  his 
will,  made  him  a  law  unto  himself? 

A  dark  flush  stained  his  face,  and  he  wrote  quickly 
on  and  on.  When  he  had  finished,  and  signed  his 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  177 

telegram  "The  Chamois  Hunter,"  he  hurried  away 
to  buy  a  ticket,  and  was  only  just  in  time.  He 
sprang  into  an  empty  first-class  carriage,  and  threw 
himself  into  a  seat  as  the  train  began  to  move  slowly 
out  of  the  station. 

In  his  brain  rang  the  intoxicating  music  of  his 
great  resolve.  He  could  see  nothing,  think  of  noth- 
ing but  that.  His  arms  ached  to  clasp  the  girl  he 
loved;  his  lips,  cheated  last  night,  already  felt  her 
kisses.  For  she  would  give  them  now,  and  she 
would  give  herself.  He  was  treading  the  past  of  an 
Empire  under  foot  to  win  her,  and  every  throb  of  the 
engine  brought  them  nearer  together. 

But  such  moments  of  exaltation  come  seldom  in 
a  lifetime.  The  heart  of  man  or  woman  could  not 
go  on  for  ever  playing  the  wild  refrain  of  their  ac- 
companiment; and  so  it  was  that,  as  the  minutes 
passed,  the  song  of  the  blood  in  Maximilian's  veins 
fell  to  a  minor  key.  He  thought  still  of  Sylvia,  and 
thought  of  her  with  passion  which  would  be  satisfied 
at  any  cost ;  but  he  thought  of  lesser  things  as  well. 
He  viewed  the  course  which  his  meditated  action 
laid  out  before  him,  like  a  man  who  rides  a  race  for 
life  or  death  across  strange  country,  where  none 
have  passed  before. 

There  was  no  one  on  earth  whom  Maximilian  of 
Rhaetia  feared,  but  there  was  one  to  whom  he  owed 
much,  and  whom  it  would  be  grievous  to  offend.  In 
his  father's  day,  one  man,  old  even  then,  had  built 


178  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

upon  the  foundations  of  a  disastrous  past  a  great 
and  prosperous  nation.  This  man  had  been  to  Maxi- 
milian what  his  father  could  never  have  been ;  and, 
without  the  magnetic  gift  of  inspiring  affection,  had 
instilled  respect  and  gratitude  in  the  breast  of  an  en- 
thusiastic boy. 

"Poor  old  von  Markstein!"  the  Emperor  said  to 
himself.  "He  will  feel  this  sorely.  I  would  spare 
him  if  I  could ;  yet  I  cannot  live  my  life  for  him " 

He  sighed,  and  looked  up  frowning  at  some  sud- 
den sound.  Like  a  spirit  called  from  the  vasty  deep, 
there  stood  the  Chancellor  at  the  door  between  Maxi- 
milian's compartment  and  the  next. 


CHAPTER  XII 

BETWEEN  MAN  AND  MAN 

OLD  Iron  Heart  was  dressed  in  the  long,  double- 
breasted  grey  overcoat,  and  wore,  pulled  over  his 
eyes,  the  grey  slouch  hat,  in  which  all  snapshot 
photographs  (no  others  had  ever  been  taken)  repre- 
sented him. 

At  sight  of  the  Emperor,  leaning  with  folded  arms 
against  the  red  plush  cushions,  he  took  off  his  fa- 
mous hat,  to  show  the  bald,  shining  dome  of  his 
great  head,  fringed  with  hair  of  curiously  mingled 
black  and  white. 

"Good-day,  your  Majesty,"  he  observed,  with  no 
sign  of  surprise  in  voice  or  countenance. 

The  train  rocked  from  side  to  side,  and  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  the  old  man  kept  his  footing ;  but 
he  stood  rigidly  erect,  supporting  himself  in  the 
doorway,  until  the  Emperor  invited  him  to  enter  and 
be  seated. 

"I  am  glad  that  you  are  well  enough  to  travel, 
Chancellor/  cried  Maximilian.  "We  had  none  too 

179 


180  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

encouraging  an  account  of  you  from  Captain  Otto 
the  day  before  yesterday.'* 

"I  travel  because  you  travel,  your  Majesty,"  said 
Iron  Heart. 

They  now  sat  facing  each  other,  on  opposite  seats, 
and  the  Emperor,  combating  a  boyish  sense  of  guilt, 
stared  fixedly  at  the  square  visage,  on  which  the 
afternoon  light  cruelly  scored  the  detail  of  each 
wrinkle. 

"Soh?"  said  Maximilian. 

"Your  Majesty,  I  have  served  you,  and  your  fa- 
ther before  you.  I  think  you  trust  me  somewhat?" 

"No  man  more.  But  this  sounds  a  momentous 
preface.  Is  it  possible  you  find  it  necessary  to  'lead 
up'  to  the  subject,  if  I  can  have  the  pleasure  of  doing 
you  a  favour?" 

"It  is  no  preface,  your  Majesty.  I  am  too  blunt 
a  man  to  begin  with  prefaces  when  I  serve  in  the  ca- 
pacity, not  of  diplomat,  but  friend.  For  you  have 
allowed  me  to  call  myself  your  friend." 

"I  have  asked  it  of  you." 

"If  I  seemed  to  'lead  up'  to  what  I  have  to  say,  it 
is  only  for  the  sake  of  explanation.  You  are  won- 
dering, perhaps,  how  I  knew  that  you  would  travel 
to-day,  and  why,  knowing  it,  I  ventured  to  follow.  I 
learned  your  intention  by  accident"  (the  Chancellor 
did  not,  for  all  his  boasted  bluntness,  tell  what  lay 
behind  that  accident)  ;  "wishing  much  to  talk  over 
with  you  a  pressing  matter  which  brooks  no  delay,  I 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  181 

took  this  liberty,  and  seized  the  opportunity  of  speak- 
ing with  you  alone.  Some  men  in  my  situation  would 
think  it  wiser  to  pretend  that  business  of  their  own 
had  brought  them  on  the  journey,  and  that  the  meet- 
ing had  come  about  by  chance.  But  I  am  not  one 
to  work  in  the  dark,  and  I  want  your  Majesty  to 
know  the  truth."  Which  no  doubt  he  did;  but  per- 
haps not  quite  the  whole  truth. 

"You  raise  my  curiosity,"  said  Maximilian. 

"I  will  not  keep  it  waiting  long,"  said  Iron  Heart. 
"Have  I  your  indulgence  to  speak  frankly,  not 
wholly  as  a  servant  of  the  Emperor  to  his  master, 
but  as  man  to  man — an  old  man  to  a  young  one?" 

"I  would  have  you  speak  in  no  other  way,"  an- 
swered Maximilian ;  but  he  uttered  the  words  with  a 
certain  constraint,  and  the  softness  died  out  of  his 
eyes. 

"I  have  had  a  letter  from  Friedrich,  the  Crown 
Prince  of  Abruzzia.  It  has  come  to  his  ears  that 
there  is  reason  for  your  Imperial  Majesty's  delay  in 
following  up  the  first  overtures  for  an  alliance  with 
his  family.  Gossip  has  told  him  that  your  Majesty's 
affections  have  become  otherwise  engaged,  and  he 
has  written  to  me  as  a  friend,  asking  me  to  contra- 
dict or  confirm  the  rumour." 

"I  am  not  sure  that  negotiations  had  progressed 
far  enough  in  that  matter  to  give  him  the  right  of 
inquiry,"  said  Maximilian,  flushing. 

The  old  man  spread  out  his  hands — the  pathetic 


182  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

hands  of  age — in  a  deprecatory  gesture.  "I  fear,  in 
my  zeal  for  your  Majesty's  welfare  and  the  welfare 
of  Rhaetia,  I  somewhat  exceeded  my  instructions," 
he  confessed.  "My  one  excuse  is,  that  I  believed 
your  mind  to  be  entirely  made  up.  I  still  believe  so. 
I  would  listen  to  no  one  who  told  me  otherwise. 
And  I  will  inform  Friedrich  that " 

"You  must  even  get  yourself  and  me  out  of  the 
scrape  as  gracefully  as  you  can,  since  you  admit  you 
got  us  into  it,"  broke  in  the  Emperor,  sinfully  glad 
of  the  chance  to  transfer  a  fraction  of  the  blame  to 
other  shoulders.  "If  Princess  Sylvia  of  Eltzburg- 
Neuwald  is  as  charming  as  she  is  said  to  be,  her  only 
difficulty  will  be  to  choose  a  husband,  not  to  get  one. 
For  once  gossip  has  told  the  truth,  and  I  would  not 
pay  the  Princess  so  poor  a  compliment  as  to  ask  for 
her  hand  when  my  heart  is  irrevocably  given  to  an- 
other woman." 

"It  is  of  that  other  I  would  speak  with  you  also, 
your  Majesty.  Gossip  has  named  her.  May  I  do 
the  same?" 

"I  will  save  you  the  trouble,  Chancellor,"  retorted 
Maximilian,  "for  I  am  not  ashamed  that  at  last  the 
common  fate  of  all  has  overtaken  me — common,  be- 
cause they  say  every  man  loves  once  before  he  dies ; 
yet  uncommon,  because  no  man  ever  loved  such  a 
woman.  There  is  no  one  in  the  world  like  Miss  de 
Courcy — the  English  lady  who  saved  my  life  on  the 
eve  of  my  birthday,  as  you  know." 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  183 

"It  is  natural  that  you  should  feel  grateful,  your 
Majesty." 

"It  is  natural  that  I  should  feel  love;  impossible 
that  I  should  not  feel  it." 

"Natural  that  being  still  young  and  inexperienced 
in  such  matters,  your  Majesty  should  mistake  grati- 
tude for  love ;  impossible  that  you  should  let  the  mis- 
take continue." 

"If  it  were  a  mistake !  I  am  keeping  to  my  bar- 
gain, Chancellor,  and  talking  with  you  man  to  man, 
for  I  know  you  won't  try  me  too  far.  In  such  a  con- 
nection it  would  be  better  not  to  mention  the  word 
'mistake.'  I  am  glad  that  you  followed  me,  for  I 
may  as  well  say  that  I  meant  you  should  know  my 
intentions  within  a  few  days.  You,  of  course,  would 
have  known  before  anyone." 

"Intentions,  your  Majesty?  I  fear  I  grow  old  and 
slow  of  understanding." 

"For  you  to  be  slow  of  understanding  would  be 
a  change  indeed.  I  spoke  of  my  intentions  towards 
Miss  de  Courcy." 

"You  would  make  the  lady  some  handsome  pres- 
ent, as  an  acknowledgment  of  your  indebtedness?" 

"Whether  handsome  or  not  would  be  largely  a 
matter  of  opinion,"  said  the  Emperor,  smiling  for 
the  first  time.  "I  am  making  her  a  present  of  my- 
self." 

The  old  man  had  sat  with  his  chin  sunk  into  his 
short  neck,  peering  out  from  under  his  brows  in  a 


184  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

way  he  had;  but  he  lifted  his  head  suddenly,  and 
there  was  a  look  in  his  eyes  like  that  of  an  animal 
who  scents  danger  from  an  unexpected  quarter. 

"Your  Majesty!"  he  exclaimed  incredulously. 
"You  are  your  father's  son.  You  are  Rhaetia. 
Your  standard  of  honour  cannot  be  soiled  for  a 
woman's  sake." 

"You  misunderstand  me,"  said  Maximilian,  in 
haste.  "I  speak  of  marriage." 

The  Chancellor's  jaw  dropped,  and  the  warm  ma- 
hogany hue  of  his  skin  paled  to  a  sickly  yellow.  For 
a  moment  his  lips  quivered  in  a  vain  effort  to  formu- 
late words,  but  he  fought  with  his  weakness  and 
conquered. 

"I  had  dreamed  of  nothing  as  bad  as  this,  your 
Majesty,"  he  blurted  out,  with  no  sugaring  of  the 
truth  this  time.  "I  had  heard  the  rumour  connecting 
your  most  august  name  with  that  of  a  stranger  from 
another  country.  I  feared  a  young  man's  impulsive- 
ness. I  dreaded  a  scandal.  But — forgive  me,  your 
Majesty,  this  thought  of  yours  is  no  less  than  mad- 
ness. For  a  man  in  your  position,  a  morganatic 

marriage  would  spell  ruin " 

"A  morganatic  marriage  was  in  my  mind,  I  ad- 
mit," the  Emperor  cut  him  short  once  more.  "But  I 
saw  the  unwisdom,  the  injustice  of  that,  and  de- 
cided differently." 

"Praise  be  to  Heaven!"  devoutly  ejaculated  the 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  185 

Chancellor,  who,  in  calmer  moments,  believed  him- 
self an  atheist. 

"I  decided  that,  rather  than  lose  something  dearer 
than  life,  as  dear  as  honour,  I  would  make  this  lady 
— this  peerless  lady — Empress  of  Rhaetia,"  Maxi- 
milian went  on. 

With  a  cry  the  Chancellor  sprang  up,  the  veins  in 
his  forehead  full  to  bursting.  His  eyes  glared  like 
those  of  a  bull  that  receives  the  death-stroke.  His 
working  lips  and  the  hollow  sound  in  his  throat 
alarmed  the  Emperor,  who,  for  a  few  grim  seconds, 
feared  the  worst.  But  the  iron  heart  of  old  Eber- 
hard  von  Markstein  was  not  to  be  stilled  by  a  single 
blow. 

He  muttered  a  word  which  the  younger  man  ig- 
nored, though  it  smote  his  ears  sharply.  Then,  after 
a  silence  potent  with  meaning,  and  punctuated  with 
a  gasp,  the  Chancellor  "found  himself"  again. 

"No,  your  Majesty,  no,  I  say!'  he  panted. 

"But  I  say  yes,  and  no  man  shall  give  me  nay.  I 
have  thought  it  all  out  and  I  see  the  path  before 
me,"  insisted  Maximilian.  "I  will  make  her  a  coun- 
tess first ;  she  shall  be  Countess  of  Salzbriick.  Later, 
she  shall  be  Empress." 

"Your  Majesty,  it  is  impossible." 

"Who  dares  say  it  is  impossible?  Answer  me 
that,  von  Markstein.  She  is  already  a  lady  of  unim- 
peachable breeding,  reputation,  and  birth " 

"Your  Majesty's  pardon,  while  /  say  it  is  impos- 


186  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

sible — I,  von  Markstein.  For  I  tell  you  she  has 
neither  the  position  nor  the  birth  that  she  claims,  and 
I  can  prove  it !" 

Maximilian  turned  on  him  fiercely;  then  the  old 
face,  so  closely  associated  with  every  crisis  of  his  life, 
appealed  to  his  youth  and  to  his  manhood.  "Take 
care,  von  Markstein,"  he  said,  but  in  a  different  tone 
from  that  which  he  had  meant  to  use. 

The  Chancellor — for  all  his  apparent  brusquerie, 
a  diplomat  before  he  was  a  man — was  quick  to  see 
and  understand  the  change,  as  quick  to  take  advan- 
tage. 

"Punish  me  as  you  will,  your  Majesty,"  he  said, 
making  no  further  effort  to  control  the  shaking  of 
his  voice  and  hands,  since  age  and  infirmity  were  at 
this  moment  his  best  advocates.  "I  am  an  old  man ; 
my  work  for  you  and  yours  is  nearly  done.  Cheer- 
fully will  I  bow  to  dismissal,  if  my  last  effort  in 
your  service  may  save  the  ship  of  state  from  wreck. 
I  would  not  speak  what  I  do  not  know;  and  I  do 
know  that  the  two  English  ladies  who  have  been 
staying  at  the  Schloss  Lynarberg  are  not  the  persons 
they  pretend  to  be." 

"Who  has  been  lying  to  you,  Chancellor?"  cried 
Maximilian,  who  held  the  temper  he  vowed  not  to 
lose  in  clenched  hands. 

"To  me,  no  one.  To  your  Majesty,  to  society  in 
Salzbriick,  two  adventuresses  have  lied." 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  187 

The  Emperor  leapt  to  his  feet.  "If  you  were  a 
young  man,  I  would  kill  you  for  that,"  he  said. 

"I  know  you  would.  Even  as  it  is,  my  life  is 
yeurs.  But,  for  God's  sake,  for  your  dead  father's 
sake,  hear  me  first." 

Maximilian  stared  out  of  the  window  at  the  van- 
ishing landscape,  his  lips  a  tense  white  line.  Pres- 
ently he  sat  down. 

"Very  well,  I  will  hear  you,"  he  said.  "Because 
I  do  not  fear  to  hear  anything  that  you  can  say." 

Already  the  Chancellor  'had  marshalled  his  array 
of  facts  in  their  proper  order,  and  now  he  lost  no 
time  in  seizing  the  opening  offered,  lest — before  all 
he  had  to  say  was  said — the  narrow  way  should  close 
again. 

"When  I  heard  of  your  Majesty's  growing  admi- 
ration for  the  lady  who  was  fortunate  enough  to 
save  your  life,"  he  began,  "I  looked  for  her  name 
and  her  mother's  in  a  book  which  the  English  nation 
values  next  to  the  Bible.  It  is  called  'Burke's  Peer- 
age.' There  I  found  the  name  of  Lady  de  Courcy, 
widow  of  a  certain  Sir  Thomas,  Baron ;  mother  of  a 
son,  still  a  child,  and  of  one  living  daughter,  much 
older,  a  young  woman  with  many  names  and  twenty- 
eight  years." 

The. Emperor,  who  had  been  frowning  into  space, 
turned  a  quick  look  of  surprise  on  his  Chancellor. 
Beginning  to  speak,  he  changed  his  mind,  and  bh\ 
his  lip  instead. 


188  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

For  a  second  the  Chancellor  paused,  hoping  for 
the  lead  which  he  had  expected  here;  but  finding 
that  it  did  not  come,  he  went  on — 

"I  had  seen  the  ladies  at  your  Majesty's  birthday 
ball,  and  it  seemed  to  me  impossible  that  the  younger 
could  have  reached  so  mature  an  age.  Besides,  she 
herself  confessed  to  but  twenty-two.  This,  perhaps, 
was  not  unusual,  yet  it  set  me  thinking.  The  de 
Courcys,  I  learned  by  a  little  further  reading  in 
Burke,  were  distantly  connected  with  the  family  of 
Eltzburg-Neuwald,  which  struck  me,  in  the  circum- 
stances, as  an  odd  coincidence.  A  Miss  de  Courcy 
became  the  Duke  of  Northminster's  wife;  and  to 
her  was  born  a  daughter  who  eventually  married 
the  late  Grand  Duke  of  Eltzburg-Neuwald,  father  of 
Princess  Sylvia  and  the  present  Crown  Prince  of 
Abruzzia.  Acting  as  I  felt  my  duty  to  your  Majesty 
and  Rhaetia  bade  me  act,  I  at  once  telegraphed  to 
Friedrich,  and  also  to  Baron  von  Mienigen,  your 
Majesty's  Ambassador  to  England." 

"What  did  you  telegraph?"  asked  the  Emperor, 
with  ominous  calm. 

"Nothing  compromising  to  your  Majesty  or  to 
the  lady,  I  trust  you  feel  confident  of  that.  I  in- 
quired of  Friedrich  if  he  had  English  relatives 
named  de  Courcy — a  mother  and  daughter — travel- 
ling in  Rhaetia;  and  begged  that,  if  so,  he  would 
describe  them,  wiring  an  answer  to  me  at  Markstein. 
To  von  Mienigen  I  said  that  all  possible  particulars 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  189 

i 

regarding1  the  widow  of  Sir  Thomas  de  Courcy  and 
her  daughter,  with  an  account  of  their  present  move- 
ments, would  place  me  under  personal  obligations, 
and  that  I  hoped  for  a  speedy  reply  by  telegraph. 
These  messages  I  sent  off  late  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
day  before  yesterday.  Last  night  I  received  the  an- 
swers, within  two  or  three  hours  of  one  another. 
They  are  now  here"  (he  tapped  the  breast  of  his 
coat) ;  "have  I  your  Majesty's  permission  to  show 
them?" 

"I  will  read  what  your  friends  have  to  say,  if  you 
wish,"  returned  Maximilian  coldly.  His  face  told 
nothing;  but  the  Chancellor  looked  down  to  hide  the 
flicker  of  hope  under  his  eyelids.  With  a  slight  tre- 
mor in  the  big  blunt  fingers,  he  unbuttoned  his  coat, 
and  drew  out  a  handsome  coroneted  pocket-book, 
given  him  by  Maximilian.  The  gift  had  been  made 
on  the  old  man's  sixty-fourth  birthday,  almost  a 
year  ago ;  and  the  sight  of  it  now  produced  a  certain 
effect,  as,  perhaps,  Iron  Heart  was  quietly  aware. 

From  the  pocket-book  came  two  folded  papers; 
and,  with  a  bow,  the  Chancellor  placed  them  in  his 
Imperial  master's  hands. 

The  first  that  Maximilian  opened  was  a  telegram 
in  Italian  from  the  Crown  Prince  of  Abruzzia. 

"Have  not  the  remotest  idea  where  Lady  de 
Courcy  and  her  daughter  are  living;  may  be  in 
Rhaetia  or  at  the  South  Pole,"  it  was  worded  with 
characteristic  flippancy.  "Have  not  seen  either  since 


190  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

a  visit  paid  to  England  eight  years  ago,  ttien  only 
once.  Lady  de  Courcy  is  a  tall  old  party  of  the  drag- 
on order,  with  a  nose  like  a  rocking-horse.  My 
cousin  Mary  is  dark,  and  takes  after  her  mother.  Is 
Otto  to  be  the  happy  man  ? — FRIEDRICH." 

With  absolutely  expressionless  features,  Maxi- 
milian tossed  the  paper  on  to  the  seat  by  his  side  and 
unfolded  the  other. 

"Pardon  delay,"  the  Rhaetian  Ambassador  to 
Great  Britain  began  his  message.  "Have  been 
obliged  to  make  inquiries.  Lady  de  Courcy  is  the 
widow  of  Baron  de  Courcy,  who  died  ten  years  ago, 
leaving  one  son  and  a  daughter.  The  lady  is  not 
rich,  and  in  her  son's  minority  lets  her  town  and 
country  houses,  living  mostly  abroad.  She  is  at  pres- 
net  in  Calcutta,  India,  where  her  daughter,  Miss 
Mary  de  Courcy,  is  engaged  to  marry  a  Judge  Mor- 
ley,  a  man  of  some  distinction.  Kindly  let  me  hear 
if  there  are  other  particulars  you  desire  to  know,  and 
I  will  endeavour  to  obtain  them. — MIENIGEN." 

"Well!"  the  Emperor  threw  aside  the  telegram, 
and  laughed.  Rather  a  forced  laugh,  perhaps,  but 
still  it  was  a  laugh.  "Is  it  possible  that  so  wise  a 
man  of  the  world  as  yourself,  Chancellor,  dares  to 
call  two  ladies  'adventuresses'  on  such  slight  grounds 
as  these;  or  have  you  more  cards  up  your  sleeve?" 

Von  Markstein  breathed  quickly.  He  had  counted 
on  the  Emperor's  former  strict  regard  for  Court  eti- 
quette, the  well-known  sternness  of  his  principle;  and 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  191 

he  had  not  prepared  himself  for  such  an  answer.  But 
then,  he  had  yet  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  Maxi- 
milian as  a  man  in  love. 

He  hesitated  for  a  reply.  In  truth,  he  had  founded 
his  theory  on  this  basis,  and  he  still  considered  it 
amply  sufficient  to  satisfy  anyone  save  a  madman. 
But  if  Maximilian  were  mad,  he  must  be  treated 
accordingly;  therefore  the  Chancellor  condescended 
to  ''bluff." 

"It  is  not  yet  time  to  play  the  trumps  which  I 
keep  in  my  sleeve,  your  Majesty,"  he  said,  as  firmly 
as  if  he  had  not  been  conscious  of  his  sleeve's  empti- 
ness. "But  I  am  sure,  when  you  have  thought  the 
matter  over — perhaps  deigned  to  talk  it  over  with  me 
— you  will  see  that  the  cards  I  have  laid  before  you 
are  all-sufficing.  The  ladies  styling  themselves  de 
Courcy  have  come  to  Rhaetia  under  false  colours. 
They  have  either  deceived  Lady  West,  or  they  have 
forged  the  letters  of  introduction  purporting  to  be 
from  her." 

"Why  didn't  you  telegraph  Lady  West,  while 
your  hand  was  in,  my  friend?"  asked  Maximilian, 
feigning  indifference  to  the  answer. 

"I  did,  your  Majesty,  since  you  ask  trie  question. 
At  least,  not  knowing  the  address  which  would  find 
her  soonest,  I  wired  a  friend  of  hers,  an  acquaintance 
of  my  own,  begging  him  to  speak  with  Lady  Wegt, 
not  mentioning  my  name  in  the  matter.  But  as  yet 
I  have  received  no  response  to  that  telegram." 


192  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"Until  you  do,  I  should  think  that  even  an  old 
cynic  like  yourself,  Chancellor,  might  have  given 
two  defenceless,  inoffensive  ladies  the  benefit  of  the 
doubt." 

"Inoffensive,  you  call  them?"  protested  Iron 
Heart  incredulously.  "Inoffensive,  when  they  came 
to  this  country  for  the  purpose  of  using  the  young 
woman's  beauty  to  ensnare  your  Majesty's  affec- 
tions, to  entrap  you  into  some  sort  of  declaration? 
But,  great  Heaven,  it  is  true  indeed  that  my  brain 
feels  the  advance  of  years !  I  have  forgotten  to  im- 
plore that  your  Majesty  will  tell  me  whether  you 
have  mentioned  the  word  marriage  to  the  lady?  I 
pray  that  you  have  not  so  far  compromised  yourself 
and  Rhaetia." 

"I  will  answer  that  question  by  another.  Do  you 
believe  that  Miss  de  Courcy  came  to  Rhaetia  for  the 
express  purpose  of  'entrapping  me/  as  you  call  it?" 

"In  truth,  I  scarcely  credit  even  her  ambition  with 
as  high  a  flight  as  your  Majesty's  avowed  intentions. 
I  believe  that  she  would  have  been  satisfied  with  far 
less — far  less." 

"In  that  case,  you  think  she  would  have  been  over- 
joyed with  an  offer  to  become  the  morganatic  wife 
of  the  Emperor?' 

"  'Overjoyed'  is  a  mild  word,  your  Majesty. 
Overwhelmed  might  be  nearer." 

"Yet  I  tell  you  that  she  refused  me  last  night,  and 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  193 

is  leaving  Rhaetia  to-day  rather  than  listen  to  fur- 
ther entreaties." 

Maximilian  leaned  forward  to  launch  this  thun- 
derbolt, his  brown  hands  on  his  knees,  his  eyes  eager. 
The  recollections,  half  bitter,  half  sweet,  called  up 
by  his  own  words,  caused  Sylvia  to  appear  in  his 
imagination  more  beautiful,  more  completely  desir- 
able even  than  before. 

He  was  delighted  with  the  expression  on  von 
Markstein's  face,  though  it  quickly  faded.  "Now, 
what  arguments  have  you  left  ?"  he  broke  out  in  the 
brief  silence. 

"All  that  I  had  before — more,  indeed.  For  what 
your  Majesty  has  said  only  shows  that  the  lady  is 
more  ambitious,  more  self-confident,  therefore  more 
dangerous,  than  I  had  supposed.  She  staked  much 
upon  the  power  of  her  charms ;  and  she  might  have 
won,  had  you  not  an  old  servant  who  wouldn't  be 
fooled  by  the  enchantments  of  Helen  herself." 

"She  has  won,"  said  Maximilian.  Then,  hastily 
— "God  forgive  me  for  chiming  in  with  your  hu- 
mour, and  speaking  as  if  she  had  played  a  game. 
That  is  far  enough  from  my  meaning.  By  simply 
being  herself  she  has  won  me,  such  as  I  am ;  she  has 
proved  that,  if  she  cares  at  all,  it  is  for  the  man  and 
not  the  Emperor,  since  she  called  an  offer  which 
most  ambitious  women  would  have  welcomed,  an  in- 
sult. Yes,  Chancellor,  that  was  the  word  she  used; 
and  it  was  almost  the  last  she  said  to  me;  which  is 


194  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

the  reason  I  am  travelling  to-day.  And  nothing  that 
you  have  told  me  has  any  power  to  hold  me  back." 

"By  Heaven,  your  Majesty,  I  believe  you  look 
upon  yourself  from  the  point  of  view  you  credit  to 
this  English  girl!  You  forget  the  Emperor  in  the 
man." 

"I  have  thought  well,  and  at  last  I  see  nothing  in 
one  which  need  interfere  with  the  other." 

"Love  indeed  makes  men  blind,  and  I  see  it  spares 
not  the  eyes  of  Emprors." 

"I  have  given  my  word  to  bear  with  you  and  your 
tongue,  von  Markstein." 

"And  I  know  that  you  will  keep  it.  I  must  speak  ; 
I  speak  for  Rhaetia,  and  for  your  better  self !  Your 
Majesty,  I  understand  that  you  are  now  following 
this  lady  with  the  purpose  of  informing  her  that  she 
has  triumphed — that  she  is  to  be  the  Empress." 

"If  she  will  have  the  Emperor  for  her  husband." 

"A  lady  whose  name  is  of  so  little  value  to  her 
that  she  steals  another !  The  nation  will  not  bear  it, 
your  Majesty." 

"I  think  you  speak  for  yourself,  not  for  Rhaetia, 
Chancellor,"  said  Maximilian.  "I  am  not  so  old  as 
you  by  four-and-thirty  years,  yet  I  believe  I  can 
judge  of  what  my  people  will  bear  at  least  as  well  as 
you  can.  The  law  which  obliges  an  Emperor  of 
Rhaetia  to  marry  Royalty  is  an  unwritten  law,  a  law 
solely  of  custom,  handed  down  through  many  gen- 
erations. I  will  not  spoil  my  life  by  submitting  to  its 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  195 

yoke,  since  by  breaking  it  the  nation  gains,  rather 
than  loses.  You  have  seen  Miss  de  Courcy.  Where 
could  I  find  another  such  woman  for  my  wife — for 
Rhaetia's  Empress?' 

"You  have  not  seen  Princess  Sylvia  of  Eltzburg- 
Neuwald,  who  is  famed  for  her  beauty." 

"I  have  no  wish  to  see  her ;  her  beauty  is  for  him 
who  has  not  looked  on  perfection.  There  is  but  one 
woman  in  the  world  for  me ;  and  I  swear  to  you,  von 
Markstein,  if  I  cannot  have  her,  I  will  go  to  my 
grave  unmarried.  Let  the  crown  fall  to  my  uncle's 
son.  I'll  not  perjure  myself — no,  not  even  for 
Rhaetia." 

The  Chancellor  bowed  his  head  and  held  up  his 
hands,  for  with  gesture  alone  was  he  able  to  express 
his  feelings. 

"As  I  said,"  Maximilian  went  sharply  on,  "it  shall 
be  the  Countess  of  Salzbriick  who  becomes  the  Em- 
press. If  my  people  love  me,  they  will  love  her,  and 
rejoice  in  my  happiness.  If  they  complain,  why,  we 
shall  see  who  is  master;  whether  to  be  Emperor  of 
Rhaetia  means  being  a  mere  figure-head  or  not.  In 
some  countries  Royalty  is  but  an  ornamental  survival 
of  a  picturesque  past,  a  King  or  Queen  is  no  more 
than  a  puppet  which  the  nation  loads  with  magnifi- 
cence to  do  itself  honour.  But  that  is  not  yet  so  in 
Rhaetia,  as  I  am  ready  to  prove,  if  prove  it  I  must. 
For  my  part,  I  think  I  shall  be  spared  the  trouble, 
for  we  Rhaetians  love  romance  in  high  or  low;  you 


196  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

only  are  the  exception,  Chancellor.  And  as  for  the 
story  you  have  told  me,  and  proved  to  your  satisfac- 
tion, though  not  to  mine,  I  would  give  that  for  it !" 
And  the  Emperor  snapped  his  fingers. 

"You  still  believe,  despite  what  Friedrich  and  von 
Mienigen  say,  that  mother  and  daughter  are  Lady 
and  Miss  de  Courcy?" 

"I  believe  that,  whoever  they  may  be,  they  are  of 
stainless  reputation,  and  that  any  apparent  mystery 
is  capable  of  satisfactory  explanation.  Knowing 
Miss  de  Courcy,  it  would  be  impossible  to  believe 
less  well  of  her.  She  is  herself;  that  is  enough  for 
me.  Perhaps,  Chancellor,  the  mistake  is  all  your 
own,  and  there  are  two  Lady  de  Courcys." 

"Only  one  is  mentioned  in  Burke,  your  Majesty." 

"Burke  isn't  gospel,  whatever  English  people 
think/' 

"Pardon  me,  it  is  the  gospel  of  the  British  peerage. 
It  can  no  more  be  guilty  of  an  error  than  Euclid." 

"Nor  can  Miss  de  Courcy  be  guilty  of  a  theft.  I'll 
stake  my  life  on  that;  and  I  tell  you  again,  Chan- 
cellor, that  your  lame  conclusions  have  proved  noth- 
ing." 

The  old  man  accepted  his  rebuke  in  momentary 
silence.  But,  after  a  pause,  equal  to  three  or  four 
whole  notes  in  music,  he  spoke  slowly  and  respect- 
fully : 

"Your  Majesty  referred,  a  short  time  ago,  to  cer- 
tain other  cards,  which  you  suggested — in  a  playful 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  19T 

way — I  might  be  concealing  for  future  use.  I  did 
not  deny  the  accusation,  and  if  I  have  not  yet  laid 
down  these  cards,  your  Majesty,  do  not  take  it  as  a 
sign  that  they  are  not  in  my  possession." 

"It  is  often  good  policy  to  lead  trumps,"  said 
Maximilian,  not  without  a  sneer. 

"In  whist,  but  not  in  all  games,  your  Majesty.  I 
hold  mine  for  the  present.  But — is  your  indulgence 
for  the  old  man  quite  exhausted?" 

"Not  quite,  though  slightly  strained,  I  will  con- 
fess," Maximilian  said,  tempering  the  words  with 
half  a  smile. 

"Then  I  have  one,  and  only  one,  more  important 
question  to  ask,  venturing  to  remind  you  first  that,  to 
the  best  of  my  belief,  I  have  acted  solely  in  your 
interest.  If  I  feel  that  such  a  step  as  you  contem- 
plate would  be  my  death-blow,  it  is  simply  because 
I  love  you  and  love  Rhaetia  before  all  else.  Tell  me, 
your  Majesty,  this  one  thing.  If  it  were  proved  to 
you  that  the  lady  you  know  as  Miss  de  Courcy  was, 
not  only  not  the  person  she  pretended  to  be,  but  in 
other  respects  unworthy  of  your  love — unworthy  in 
a  way  that  no  man  can  forgive — what  would  you  do 
then?" 

"You  speak  of  impossibilities." 

"But  if  they  were  not  impossibilities?" 

"In  such  a  case  I  would  do  as  other  men  do—- 
spend the  rest  of  my  life  in  trying  to  forget  a  lost 
ideal." 


198  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"I  thank  your  Majesty;  that  is  all  I  now  ask.  I 
suppose — you  will  continue  your  journey?" 

"Yes,  I  continue  my  journey  as  far  as  Wandeck, 
where  I  hope  to  find  Lady  and  Miss  de  Courcy." 

"Then,  your  Majesty,  when  I  have  expressed  my 
deep  gratitude  for  your  forbearance — even  though  I 
failed  to  be  convincing — I  will  trouble  you  no 
longer." 

The  Chancellor  rose,  slowly  and  painfully,  with  a 
reminiscence  of  the  gout,  and  Maximilian  regarded 
him  in  surprise.  "What  do  you  mean  ?"  he  asked. 

"Only  that  since  I  can  do  no  further  good,  I  shall, 
with  your  permission,  get  out  at  this  station,  and  go 
back  to  Salzbriick." 

The  Emperor  realised,  what  he  had  not  noticed 
until  this  moment,  that  the  train  was  slowing  down, 
as  it  passed  into  the  suburbs  of  a  town.  He  and  the 
Chancellor  had  talked  together  for  a  full  hour,  and 
he  was  far  from  regretting  the  prospect  of  being  left 
to  himself.  More  than  once  he  had  come  perilously 
near  to  losing  his  temper,  forgetting  his  gratitude 
and  the  old  man's  years.  How  much  longer  he  could 
have  held  out,  under  a  continued  strain  of  provoca- 
tion, he  did  not  know ;  and  he  spoke  no  word  of  dis- 
suasion, as  Count  von  Markstein  picked  up  his  hat 
and  buttoned  the  well-known  grey  overcoat  for  de- 
parture. 

"I  have  passed  pleasanter  hours  in  your  society,  I 
admit,"  said  Maximilian,  when  the  train  stopped. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  199 

"But  I  thank  you  for  your  motives,  if  not  your  max- 
ims ;  and  here's  my  hand." 

The  Chancellor  bowed  low,  until  only  the  shining 
top  of  his  bald  head  was  visible,  as  he  accepted  the 
token  of  amnesty. 

"If  your  Majesty  would  grant  me  yet  one  more 
favour  in  this  connection,  I  should  be  grateful,"  he 
declared.  "I  find  myself  fatigued  by  the  anxieties 
of  the  past  few  days,  and  I  shall  rest  for  some  hours 
at  my  house  in  Salzbriick.  Will  you  communicate 
with  me  by  telephone  when  you  have  reached  Wan- 
deck,  saying  whether  you  remain  there ;  whether  you 
return  at  once ;  or  whether  you  go  farther  ?" 

"I  will  do  that  willingly/  said  Maximilian.  Again 
he  pressed  the  Chancellor's  hand,  which  was  very 
cold,  as  the  hands  of  old  persons  sometimes  are ;  and 
five  minutes  later  he  was  journeying  on,  alone. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

NEWS  BY  TELEPHONE 

WHEN  the  Emperor  arrived  at  Wandeck  he  went 
immediately  to  the  hotel  which,  in  his  telegram,  he 
had  designated  as  a  place  of  meeting.  But  no  such 
ladies  as  he  hoped  to  find  had  come  to  the  Maxi- 
milianhof;  and  the  question  raised  by  this  intelli- 
gence was,  whether  Miss  de  Courcy  had  failed  to  re- 
receive  his  message,  or,  having  received,  had  chosen 
to  ignore  it. 

The  doubt,  harrowing  while  it  lasted,  was  solved 
by  returning  to  the  Bahnhof;  though  certainty 
proved  scarcely  less  tantalising  than  uncertainty  had 
been.  The  telegram  was  still  in  the  hands  of  the  sta- 
tionmaster,  to  whose  care  it  had  been  addressed. 
This  diligent  person  had  himself  gone  through  the 
Orient  express,  from  end  to  end,  inquiring  for  Miss 
de  Courcy,  but  no  one  had  responded.  The  lady 
might  already  have  left  the  train  at  Wandeck,  it  was 
true;  her  description  might  be  given  and  inquiries 
made ;  but  she  would  certainly  not  have  had  time  to 

200 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  201 

go  far,  and  return  to  the  train  again,  before  its  de- 
parture. 

It  was  evident  through  the  short  conversation 
that  the  unfortunate  official  was  on  pins  and  needles. 
Struck  by  the  Emperor's  features,  which  he  had  seen 
so  often  in  painting  and  photograph,  it  yet  seemed 
impossible  that  the  greatest  man  in  Rhaetia  could 
thus  be  travelling  about  the  country,  in  ordinary 
morning  dress,  and  unattended.  Sure  at  one  instant 
that  it  must  be  the  Emperor,  as  sure  the  next  that  it 
was  not,  the  poor  fellow  struggled  against  his  con- 
fusion in  a  way  that  would  have  amused  Maximilian, 
had  he  not  been  too  much  engrossed  with  other  mat- 
ters even  to  observe  it.  With  a  manner  that  essayed 
the  difficult  mean  between  reverence  due  to  Royalty 
and  commonplace  courtesy  good  enough  for  every- 
day gentlemen,  the  stationmaster  volunteered  to 
ascertain  whether  the  ladies  described  had  passed 
out,  delivering  up  their  tickets.  A  few  moments  of 
suspense  followed ;  then  came  the  news  that  no  such 
persons  had  been  seen. 

Here  was  a  quandary.  Since  Mady  de  Courcy 
and  her  mother  had  not  travelled  by  the  Orient  ex- 
press, where  had  they  gone  on  leaving  the  Hohen- 
burgerhof  ?  Had  they  deceived  Baroness  von  Lynar 
regarding  their  intentions,  for  the  purpose  of  blind- 
ing the  Emperor  (a  purpose  well  served),  or  had 
they  simply  changed  their  minds,  as  women  may? 
Was  it  possible  that  they  had  changed  them  so  rad- 


202  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

ically  as  to  go  back  to  Schloss  Lynarberg;  or  had 
they  chosen  to  be  mysterious,  and  vanish  from 
Rhaetia,  leaving  no  trace  behind?  Maximilian  re- 
called the  Chancellor's  revelations,  then  dismissed 
them  as  soon  as  thought  of.  Wherever  lay  the  clue 
to  this  tangle,  it  was  not  in  any  act  of  which  Mary 
de  Courcy  need  be  ashamed. 

There  seemed  to  be  nothing  for  it  but  to  go  back 
to  Salzbriick  and  await  developments,  or  rather,  stir 
them  up  by  every  means  within  his  power.  This  was 
the  course  which  Maximilian  chose ;  and,  just  as  he 
was  about  to  act  upon  it,  he  remembered  his  careless 
promise  to  Count  von  Markstein. 

There  was  a  telephone  in  the  railway  station,  and 
in  a  few  moments  came  the  "ping"  of  the  bell  which 
told  that  connection  was  established ;  then  the  "Hel- 
lo !"  which  Germany  and  Rhaetia  had  adopted  from 
America,  brought  an  answering  squeak,  unmistak- 
ably in  the  Chancellor's  voice. 

"My  friends  are  not  here ;  I  am  starting  for  Salz- 
briick again  by  the  next  train,"  cautiously  remarked 
the  Emperor.  "I  don't  see  the  use  of  bothering  with 
this,  but  would  not  break  my  promise.  That's  all; 
good-bye — Eh? — what  did  you  say?" 

"I — have — a — piece  of  extraordinary  news  for 
you,"  came  over  the  wire  from  Salzbriick.  "About 
the  ladies." 

"What  is  it  ?"  demanded  Maximilian,  in  the  pause 
that  followed. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  203 

"I  hinted  of  information  which  might  make  you 
see  certain  matters  differently.  I  could  not  speak 
more  definitely  then,  for  I  was  not  sure.  Now  I  am 
sure.  Your  friends  did  not  go  by  the  Orient  ex- 
press." 

"I  know  that  already/'  returned  the  Emperor, 
whose  eyes  began  to  flash,  and  who  glared  at  the  tele- 
phone as  if  it  were  some  noxious  beast  spitting 
venom. 

"They  gave  out  that  they  were  leaving  Rhaetia. 
But  they  have  not  crossed  the  frontier." 

"I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  information. 
It  is  exactly  what  I  wanted,"  was  the  Emperor's  re- 
tort. 

"You  know  who  bought  a  hunting-lodge  near 
Biinden,  in  the  Niederwald,  last  year?" 

"Yes,  I  know  whom  you  mean,"  went  sullenly 
over  the  wire.  "What  has  that  to  do  with  my 
friends?" 

"Only  that  one  of  them  has  gone  there.  You  can 
guess  which.  The  others  remain  in  Salzbruck.  It 
seems  that  the — new  owner  of  the  hunting-lodge  has 
known  them  for  some  time,  though  he  was  ignorant 
of  this  malicious  masquerade.  The  one  of  whom 
we  spoke  is  an  actress.  The  owner  arrived  at  the 
lodge  this  morning,  drove  into  town,  where  your 
friend  had  waited,  evidently  expecting  him,  invited 
her  to  pay  him  a  visit;  and  the  invitation  was  ac- 
cepted." 


204  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"I'll  never  believe  that  till  I  see  them  together, 
with  my  own  eyes !" 

"Will  you  go  with  me  to-night  when  you  return, 
and  honour  them  with  an  unexpected  call?" 

"I  will — d n  you !"  shouted  the  Emperor.  It 

was  the  first  time  that  he  had  ever  so  far  forgotten 
his  dignity  as  to  swear  at  the  Chancellor. 

He  dropped  the  receiver,  tossed  a  gold  coin,  with 
his  own  head  upon  it  (at  the  moment  he  could  have 
wished  he  had  no  other),  down  on  the  attendant's 
desk,  and,  waving  away  an  offer  of  change,  stalked 
out  of  the  office. 

Beneath  his  breath  he  swore  again,  the  strongest 
oaths  which  the  rich  language  of  his  fatherland  pro- 
vided, anathematising,  not  the  maligned  woman 
whom  he  loved,  but  the  man  who  had  maligned  her. 

There  was  madness  in  the  thought  that  she  could 
be  false  to  herself  and  her  confession  of  love  for  him. 
He  would  not  entertain  it.  Let  the  whole  world  reek 
with  foulness,  if  only  his  love  might  still  shine  above 
it  white  and  remote  as  the  young  moon  in  heaven. 

The  old  man,  whose  life  would  scarce  be  safe  could 
his  Emperor  lay  hands  upon  him  in  his  present  mood 
— this  old  man  had  a  grudge  against  the  one  perfect 
girl  on  earth.  There  was  no  shameful  rage  of  gos- 
sip which  he  would  not  stoop  to  pick  up  from  the 
mud  and  fly  as  a  flag  of  battle,  calming  his  con- 
science (if  he  still  kept  one)  by  saying  that  it  was 
"for  the  country's  good." 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  205 

Telling  himself  these  things  and  many  others, 
Maximilian  hurried  away  to  inquire  for  the  next 
train  back  to  Salzbriick.  There  would  not  be  an- 
other for  three  hours.  It  would  be  impossible  to  re- 
strain his  impatience  for  so  long,  sure  as  he  was  of 
his  love's  innocence.  There  was  a  raging  tiger  in 
his  breast,  that  would  not  cease  to  tear  him  until  he 
had  seen  Mary  de  Courcy,  told  her  what  it  was  in  his 
heart  to  do  for  her  sake,  received  her  answer,  and, 
through  it,  punished  the  Chancellor. 

The  only  way  to  do  all  this  without  intolerable 
delay  was  to  abandon  his  design  to  be  inconspicuous, 
and  order  a  special  train.  He  could  have  one,  it  ap- 
peared, in  an  hour,  or  a  little  more.  The  journey  to 
Salzbriick  would  occupy  three  hours,  and  it  would 
therefore  be  well  on  toward  eight  o'clock  before  he 
could  start  for  the  hunting-lodge  named  by  von 
Markstein.  Drive  as  fast  as  he  might,  he  could  not 
reach  the  place  before  half-past  nine ;  still,  he  would 
go,  and  the  Chancellor  should  go  with  him.  Not  be- 
cause Miss  de  Courcy  would  be  there,  but  rather, 
because  she  would  not;  and  because  von  Markstein 
must  be  made  to  confess  the  criminal  error  into 
which  his  misplaced  zeal  had  led  him. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  CHANCELLOR'S  LUCK 

"Desperate  remedies 
For  diseases  desperate  grown." 

"TELL  the  truth — when  convenient ;  spice  'witfi  pre- 
varication— when  necessary;  and  never  part  with 
the  whole  truth  at  one  time,  since  waste  is  sinful," 
might  have  been  the  wording  of  Iron  Heart's  max- 
im ;  and  he  had  made  the  most  of  that  wise  policyto- 
day. 

He  had  told  the  Emperor  no  lies, — even  through 
the  telephone,  when  carelessness  may  be  admissible ; 
but  he  had  arranged  his  truths  as  skilfully  as  pawns 
upon  a  chess-board.  It  was  said  by  some  who  pre- 
tended to  know,  that  Count  Eberhard  von  Markstein 
had  had  a  Jesuit  for  a  tutor ;  but  be  this  as  it  would, 
it  was  certain  that,  when  he  had  a  goal  to  reach,  he 
did  not  pick  his  footsteps  by  the  way.  A  flower  here 
and  there  might  be  trodden  down  in  his  progress,  a 
small  life  broken,  a  reputation  stained;  but  what  was 

206 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  20? 

that  when  the  nation's  standard  was  to  be  set  upon 
the  mountain-top? 

Supposing  he  had  said  to  the  Emperor,  after  his 
promise  of  plain  speaking,  "Your  Majesty  is  on  a 
wild-goose  chase.  Those  you  seek  have  not  left  Salz- 
bruck;  they  are  still  at  the  Hohenburgerhof.  Otto 
told  me  they  had  left  Lynarberg,  and  I  called  upon 
them  at  the  hotel,  meaning  to  frighten  them  away, 
as  the  spider  frightened  Miss  Muffitt,  by  telling  them 
that  I  knew  all,  and  they  had  better  flit,  of  their  own 
accord,  if  they  did  not  wish  to  be  assisted  over  the 
frontier.  They  refused  to  see  me,  alleging  as  an  ex- 
cuse that  some  obscure  person  in  their  menage, 
named  Collinson,  had  been  seized  with  sudden  ill- 
ness, which  would  prevent  their  departure  from 
Rhaetia  for  the  present.  While  I  awaited  their  an- 
swer at  the  hotel,  your  Majesty  telephoned  from  the 
Bahnhof ;  at  least,  I  was  certain  that  it  must  be  your 
Majesty,  and  no  other.  Fortunately  for  my  plans,  I 
overheard  the  person  at  the  telephone  communicating 
the  message  received  to  the  manager,  and  ventured 
to  use  my  influence  with  the  landlord,  not  only  to- 
ward obtaining  permission  to  dictate  the  reply,  but  a 
promise  that  the  transaction  should  be  confidential. 
By  the  fact  that  the  message  came  from  the  railway 
station,  I  judged  that  your  Majesty  contemplated 
following  the  Orient  express,  in  which  the  ladies 
would  have  gone,  had  it  not  been  for  their  compan- 
ion's illness.  I  learned  that  no  special  had  been  or- 


208  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

dered,  and  the  time  of  the  first  train  in  which  it 
would  be  possible  for  you  to  travel,  then  I  took  my 
place  before  your  Majesty  got  in.  Had  my  eloquence 
convinced  you  of  Miss  de  Courcy's  unworthiness,  I 
should  have  urged  you  to  return  with  me,  thus  spar- 
ing you  the  annoyance  of  a  useless  journey  to  Wan- 
deck.  As  matters  stood,  however,  I  was  delighted 
to  get  you  out  of  the  way,  that  I  might  hurry  back 
and  manufacture  the  trumps  alleged  to  be  kept  in  my 
sleeve,  before  you  could  return  and  interfere  with  my 
machinations."  Supposing  Count  von  Markstein 
had  said  all  this,  it  is  not  probable  that  Rhaetia 
would  long  have  rejoiced  in  so  wise,  so  self-sacrific- 
ing a  Chancellor. 

Iron  Heart  had  meekly  declared  his  readiness  to 
resign,  but  he  had  counted  (as  people  who  risk  much 
for  great  ends  usually  do  count)  on  not  being  taken 
at  his  word.  He  loved  power,  because  he  had  always 
had  it,  and  without  it  life  would  not  have  been  worth 
living;  but  it  was  honestly  for  the  country's  sake — 
even  for  Maximilian's  sake,  rather  than  his  own — 
that  he  desired  to  retain  his  high  position.  Without 
his  strong  hand  to  seize  the  reins,  if  Maximilian 
dropped  them  for  a  careless  instant,  he  conscienti- 
ously believed  that  the  chariot  of  state  was  lost. 

He  had  said  what  he  could ;  he  had  done  his  best 
to  disillusion  a  young  man  in  love  with  an  adventur- 
ess; now,  neither  as  Chancellor  nor  friend  could  he 
openly  continue  to  protest,  unless  favoured  by  fate 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  209 

witH  some  striking  new  developments.  Privately, 
however,  he  had  but  taken  the  first  step  toward  inter- 
ference; and  he  meant,  since  worst  had  come  to 
worst,  to  go  much  further.  He  would  not  even  have 
considered  it  sinful  to  kill  a  woman  of  the  type  to 
which  he  assigned  Mary  de  Courcy,  if  nothing  less 
than  removal  from  an  earthly  sphere  could  have  kept 
her  from  the  throne  of  Rhaetia. 

Long  before  his  destination  was  reached,  he  had 
decided  upon  his  next  move.  Unfortunately,  its  ul- 
timate success  depended  upon  an  outside  influence. 
But' as  that  influence  was  to  be  Otto's,  and  old  Eber- 
hard  held  the  power  of  making  Otto  a  rich  man  or  a 
beggar,  he  was  not  without  confidence  as  to  the  re- 
sult. 

During  the  early  visit  paid  by  the  younger  brother 
to  the  elder  that  morning,  it  had  been  arranged  that 
he  should  be  ready,  on  the  receipt  of  a  telegram,  in- 
stantly to  place  his  services  at  Eberhard's  disposal. 
Thus,  a  message  despatched  from  the  place  at  which 
the  Emperor  and  the  Chancellor  had  parted,  was  sup- 
posed to  assure  Otto's  meeting  the  returning  train  in 
an  hour's  time  at  Salzbriick. 

Still,  accidents  do  happen  sometimes,  to  upset  the 
best-laid  schemes,  therefore  it  was  a  relief  to  the 
mind  of  Count  von  Markstein  to  thrust  his  head 
from  the  carriage  window  on  entering  the  station, 
and  to  behold  his  brother's  handsome  face  looking  ug 
from  the  crowd  on  the  arrival  platform. 


210  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"Well?"  said  Otto,  as  they  walked  away  to  the 
carriage  which  awaited  them  outside. 

"Well !"  echoed  the  Chancellor.  "That  is  exactly 
what  it  is  not.  But  it  shall  be — it  shall  be  well ;  and 
you  shall  help  to  make  it  so." 

Otto  flushed.  "In  the  manner  we  talked  of  the 
other  day?"  he  asked  dubiously. 

"No;  I  do  not  now  intend  that  you  shall  marry 
the  girl.  Knowing  her  to  be  an  impostor,  I  know 
that  the  most  degenerate  von  Markstein  is  too  good 
to  mate  with  her,"  said  the  old  man,  the  lash  of  his 
tongue  cutting  in  two  ways  at  once.  "But  Maximil- 
ian has  lost  his  head,  and  there's  only  one  hope  left, 
it  seems,  that  he  will  find  it  in  time  to  save  the  coun- 
try a  great  disaster.  It  must  be  proved  to  him  that 
the  woman  he  honours  is  worthless ;  that  while  she 
angles  to  catch  a  big  fish,  she  does  not  disdain  to  play 
with  a  small  one." 

"Meaning,  we'll  show  the  Emperor  that  Miss  de 
Courcy  has  been  flirting  with  me,"  finished  Otto. 
"With  all  my  heart,  dear  brother,  if  that  were  pos- 
sible— for  I  owe  her  a  grudge.  But  I  confess  I  did 
not  tell  you  all  there  was  to  tell,  this  morning,  when 
I  rode  over  from  Schloss  Lynarberg.  I  spared  my- 
self the  embarrassment  of  mentioning  that,  after 
the  garden  scene  which  I  described  to  you,  Miss  de 
Courcy  and  I  had  a  little  private  scene  of  our  own. 
I  was  stupid  enough  to  choose  the  wrong  moment  for 
declaring  my  sentiments  and  expressing  my  sym- 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  211 

pathy.  Not  only  did  the  young  lady  refuse  to  for- 
give me,  at  the  time,  but  I  know  very  well  that  she 
never  will  forgive  me,  in  future.  She  will  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  me  after  this ;  she  has  forbidden  me  to 
speak  to  her  again.  Therefore,  with  the  best  inten- 
tions in  the  world,  I  am" — 

"You  are  a  fool !"  exclaimed  the  Chancellor. 

"Not  quite,  I  trust.  Only  wait  till  I  have  finished, 
and  even  my  brother  may  admit  that,  though  there's 
no  hope  for  me  in  an  affair  of  the  heart  with  Miss  de 
Courcy,  there  is  a  little  still  left  for  me  as  the  aide- 
de-camp  of  a  diplomatist.  Who  do  you  think  has 
just  arrived  in  Salzbriick?" 

"The  devil,  I  should  say,  by  the  way  things  are 
going,"  returned  the  Chancellor. 

"I've  heard  him  called  so  more  than  once.  THat's 
why  I  thought  he  might  be  useful  now.  And  as  it 
happens,  he's  in  a  mood  for  mischief.  I  met  him  on 
my  way  to  the  station,  in  his  dog-cart,  in  which  he 
had  driven  to  town  from  Biinden." 

"From  Biinden !    Then  it  is  the  Prince" — 

"Of  Darkness,  you've  just  named  him." 

The  Chancellor  heard  neither  the  flippant  inter- 
ruption nor  the  still  more  flippant  laugh  accompany- 
ing it.  His  hard  features  brightened  with  grim  joy. 
"Providence  fights  for  us !"  he  murmured. 

"With  the  devil  for  a  weapon,  you  would  put  it, 
brother  ?  Or  should  we  rather  be  polite,  and  say  that 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

the  Prince  is  like  the  ram  caught  by  its  horns  in  the 
bushes,  ready  for  sacrifice?" 

"I  pray  that  he  be  caught,  and  not  already  out  of 
reach — for  there's  no  single  moment  to  be  lost,  if 
this  marvellous  chance  is  not  to  slip  past  me,"  said 
the  Chancellor,  too  deeply  preoccupied  to  resent  his 
brother's  levity. 

"What  reward  shall  I  deserve  if  I  take  you  to  him 
inside  the  half-hour?" 

"You  do  not  forget  your  own  interests,  no  matter 
what  issues  are  at  stake!  But  you  have  served  me 
in  this  instance.  At  the  beginning  of  the  quarter  you 
shall  have  the  sum  I  mentioned  the  other  day ;  while, 
if  the  Prince  works  with  me,  and  the  cause  is  won, 
you  shall  be  my  heir;  I  promise  it.  Where  is  the 
Prince?" 

"By  a  queer  deal  of  the  cards,  by  this  time  he's  at 
the  place  you'd  choose  to  have  him,  of  all  others; 
the  Hohenburgerhof.  He  has  been  to  call  on  you  at 
your  town  house,  he  told  me,  and  not  finding  you  at 
home,  meant  to  dine  early  at  the  hotel  and  look  you 
up  again  later.  He  left  a  note,  it  seems,  which  you 
will  find  if  you  go  home." 

"It  can  wait;  I  go  to  the  Prince  direct,"  pro- 
nounced the  Chancellor. 

And  the  coachman  was  bidden  to  drive  his  fastest 
to  the  Hohenburgerhof,  in  the  Maximilian  Platz. 

The  Prince  who,  according  to  Iron  Heart's  belief, 
had  been  sent  to  him  by  Providence,  was  engaged, 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

when  the  Chancellor  arrived,  in  selecting  the  wines 
for  his  dinner.  He  was  in  the  private  apartments 
which  he  had  taken  for  the  afternoon,  and  expressed 
himself  through  an  obsequious  servant  as  being  de- 
lighted to  receive  Count  von  Markstein. 

Otto's  mission  having  been  fulfilled  and  finished, 
it  was  only  the  broad  figure  in  the  grey,  overcoat 
which  was  ushered  ceremoniously  into  the  room 
known  at  the  hotel  as  the  "Purple  Salon  of  the  Royal 
suite." 

As  the  Chancellor  was  shown  in,  a  young  man 
jumped  from  an  easy-chair,  flung  aside  the  wine 
list,  and  came  toward  the  guest  with  extended  hands. 
It  would  have  been  useless  to  scour  the  world  in 
search  of  a  handsomer  young  man  than  he.  Even 
Otto  von  Markstein,  justly  remarkable  for  his  good 
looks,  was  insignificant  compared  with  this  youth. 
He  and  the  Chancellor-  were  not  new.  acquaintances 
by  any  means,  and  the  vital  organ  which  had  given 
Iron  Heart  his  nickname  was  not  to  be  so-ftened  by 
beauty  in  male  or  female ;  but  at  this  moment  he  re- 
joiced in  the  physical  perfection  of  the  Prince  who 
would  be  a  dangerous  rival  even  for  an  Emperor. 

Count  von  Markstein  had  pronounced  his-  brother 
a  fool  for  throwing  away  his  chances  of  success-  in  a 
flirtation  with  Miss  de  Courcy,  but  he  was  almost 
ready  now  to  see  a  gift  from  Fortune  in  Otto's  cause 
for  spite  against  th'e  girl.  Had  she  not  offended  the 
young  man's  amour-propre  in  revenge  for  his  tact- 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

less  declaration,  Otto's  natural  instinct  would  have 
been  to  protect  her  from  rather  than  deliver  her  up 
to  the  enemy.  And  had  Otto  let  him — Eberhard — 
go  home,  without  knowledge  of  the  Prince's  presence 
in  Salzbruck,  hours  must  have  been  ignorantly 
squandered — precious  hours,  big  with  the  fate  of 
Rhaetia. 

"My  dear  Prince!"  exclaimed  Count  von  Mark- 
stein,  taking  into  his-  gnarled  old  hands  the  two 
young,  strong,  white  ones  held  out  to  him.. 

"My  dear  Chancellor!'  echoed  the  bland  Apollo, 
smiling,  and  wasting  in  that  act  dimples  that  would 
have  transformed  a  plain  woman  into  a,  beauty. 

"You  had  been  to  my  house  ?" 

"I  had.  No  doubt  my  friend  Otto  has  seen  and 
told  you." 

"He  would  be  honoured- by  the  appelation.  It  was 
the  news  he  gave  me  which  brought  me  here  in  haste 
from  the  station." 

"Good.  You  will  dine  with  me,  then.  I  insist! 
It  was  to  be  an  early-  dinner,  that  I  might  call  after- 
wards on  you  at  the  first  moment  when  your  servants 
thought  you  likely  to  return." 

"I  thank  you,  and  in  other  circumstances  nothing 
could  give  me  greater  pleasure.  But  I  have  business 
of  the  sort  which  makes  even  a  weary  man  forget 
the  delig;hts  of  good  companionship  and  a  good  din- 
ner." 

"Is  the  business  my  business,  Chancellor  ?" 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  215 

"I  hope  that  you  will  think  it  so.  At  least  it  is 
business  that  must  be  done  now  or  never,  and  means 
life  or  death  to  those  whom  it  concerns.  How  it  is 
to  be  done,  or  whether  done  at  all,  depends  upon  you ; 
and  it  could  be  placed  in  no  more  skilful  hands.  If 
I  had  been  given  my  choice  of  an  instrument  out  of 
the  whole  world,  had  I  dared  I  would  have  chosen 
you." 

"This  sounds  like  an  adventure." 

"It  may  indeed  be  an  adventure,  and  an  act  of 
justice  too." 

"I  expected  nothing  so  good  when  I  came  over 
the  frontier  this  morning.  You  can  guess  what 
brought  me  to  my  little  den  in  the  Niederwald  at 
this  particular  time.  It  was  not  for  hunting.  But, 
though  my  mind  is  full  of  certajn  grave  affairs,  I 
trusjt  I  have  still  the  instinct  of  a  sportsman." 

"I  am  sure  of  that.  Especially  when  your  birds 
and  mine  can  be  killed  with  one  shot." 

"Chancellor,  you  interest  me  more  and  more." 

The  old  man  smiled  gratitude,  but  under  the  bris- 
tling brows  glowed  a  light  like  the  last  embers  in  a 
dying  fire.  "Upstairs,"  said  he  abruptly,  "is  a  pretty 
woman.  She  says  her  name  is.  Mary  de  Courcy, 
though  there  are  some  of  us  who  know  better.  Her 
love  affairs  threaten  a  public  scandal." 

"Ah,  the  lady  of  whom  all  Rhaetia  talks  is  under 
the  same  roof  with  me !"  exclaimed  the  young  man, 
with  slightly  heightened  colour. 


216  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"To  you,  more  than  to  any  other,  I  can  speak' 
freely  of  our  danger,"  said  the  Chancellor.  "This 
girl  has  driven  the  Emperor  into  a  fit  of  moon-mad- 
ness. Heaven  grant  it  may  soon  pass;  and  blessed 
would  be  the  man  who  brought  my  poor  master  to 
his  senses.  If  you  would,  Prince,  you  might  be  that 
man.  The  sword  of  justice  is  ready  for  your  hand." 

"That  sentence  has  a  solemn1  ring.  I  know  what 
I  came  here  to  do.  But  you  sejem  to  be  preparing  a 
different  programme.  Tell  me,  what  sort  of  woman 
is  this  who  has  bewitched  your  grave  Maximilian?" 

"She  is  beautiful  and  clever,  as  women- are  clever; 
but  not  clever  enough  to  fight  her  battle  out  against 
you  and  me." 

"Me  ?  I  do  not  fight  with  women ;  I  make  love  to 
them." 

"Ah,  you  have  said  it!  my  dear  Prince,  that  is 
what  I  want." 

Apollo  laughed.  "Describe  the  girl,"  he  said.  "Is 
she  fair  or  dark,  tall  or  short,  a  slim  Diana  or  a 
sumptuous  Venus-?" 

"She  is:  tall  and  slender,  with  the  pink  and  white 
skin  of  a  child ;  and  she  is  dark-browed  and  yellow- 
haired,  like  the  beauties  of  Austria,"  replied  the 
Chancellor,  doing  justice  to  the  enemy's  charms,  not 
so  much  through  conscientious  motives  as  because  he 
desired  to  paint  a  pleasing  picture.  "Her-  eyes  are 
brown  or  violet;  having  nearly  reached  my  three- 
score years  and  ten,  I  cannot  tell  you-  which.  Her 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

nose  is  of  the  Greek  type,  yet  a  trifle  more  piquant, 
it  may  be.  Doubtless  a  poet  would  rave  of  her  lips, 
red  as  geraniums  on  snow;  and  even  I  can  affirm 
that  when  the  lady  looks  down,  and  then  looks  up 
smiling  with  great  play  of  dark  curled  lashes,  the 
effect  is  somewhat  striking.  I  can  imagine  that  smile 
might  quicken  the  pulses  of  a  younger  man  than  I.'* 

"It  would  quicken  mine  only  to  hear  you  tell  of 
it,  if  you  had  not  put  a  maggot  in  my  head  that 
tickles  me  to  laughter  instead  of  raptures,"  said  the 
Prince,  who  was  fully  mindful  of  his  own  supremacy 
over  women.  "Has  this  girl  who  calls  herself  de 
Courcy  a  little  black  mole  on  her  forehead  just  above 
the  left  eyebrow,  and  in  that  notable  smile  of  hers, 
does  the  mouth  point  upward  at  the  right,  like  a 
fairy  sign-post  showing  the  way  to  a  small  scar  that 
masquerades  as  a  dimple  ?" 

The  Chancellor  gravely  reflected  for  a  moment, 
and  then  replied  that  to  the  best  of  his  belief  both 
these  marks  were  distinctly  visible  on  the  tady's 
countenance.  He  did  not  add  that  he  had  met  her 
but  once,  and  had  no-  eye  for  delicate  details ;  for 
whatever  the  Prince's  theory  might  be,  it  seemed  ad- 
visable to  establish  it.  "Is  it  possible  that  you  have 
met  this  dangerous  young  person?"  he  inquired, 
hiding  eagerness. 

"Well,  I  begin  to  believe  that  I  have  reason  for 
thinking  so,  exactly  why,  I  will  tell  you  at  another 
time — it  means  a  confession.  But  a  lady  answering 


218  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

the  description  you  have  given  might  easily  be  in 
this  neighbourhood — I'd  heard  she  was  in  Rhaetia ; 
in  fact,  when  I  suddenly  made  up  my  mind  to  come, 
I  thought  it  not  impossible  that  I  might  meet  her. 
We'd  quarrelled,  after  my  having  been  weak  enough 
one  day  to  take  her  imprudently  into  my  confidence 
concerning  family  affairs.  This  coup  she  has  so 
nearly  made  may  be  by  way  of  revenge  on  me.  She's 
capable  of  the  clever  conception,  too ;  but  where  did 
she  develop  the  mother  ?  I  fancy  I  have  heard  that 
there  is  a  mother?" 

"There  is  a  marionnette  which  answers  to  the 
name,"  drily  announced  the  Chancellor.  "But  moth- 
ers are  articles  of  easy  manufacture." 

The  Prince  was  immensely  amused.  "No,  she 
wouldn't  stick  at  a  mother,  if  she  wanted  one,"  he 
chuckled ;  "and,  while  she  was  about  it,  she  appears 
to  have  annexed  a  whole  family  tree  as  well.  That 
mole  and  the  scar-dimple — you're  sure  of  them, 
Chancellor  ?  And  the  drawing  up  of  the  lips  to  the 
right  when  she  smiles?" 

"Sure,"  calmly  asseverated  Iron  Heart. 

"Then  the  more  pieces  in  this  little  puzzle  that 
I  fit  together,  the  more  likely  does  it  seem  that  your 
Miss  de  Courcy,  who  has  been  turning  Rhaetia  up- 
side down — to  say  nothing  of  Rhaetia's  Emperor — 
is  neither  more  nor  less  than  Miss  Minnie  Brand, 
one  of  the  cleverest,  and  certainly  one  of  the  prettiest 
actresses  England  has  owned  for  a  century." 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"You  met  her  in  England  ?" 

"No — o,  not  in  England" ;  the  Prince  suddenly  be- 
came non-committal.  "But  we  were  great  friends. 
After  our  quarrel  she  disappeared,  disbanding  her 
company,  letting  them  go  on  while  she  stopped  at  a 
Rhaetian  watering-place.  Ha,  ha!  now  I  think  of 
it,  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  she  had  hoped  to  make 
of  me  a  more  egregious  fool  than  she  appears  to 
have  made  of  Maximilian.  It  is  possible  she  fancied 
at'  one  time  that  I  might  be  ass  enough  to  offer  her 
marriage." 

"The  Empero-r  has  offered  her  marriage." 

"What?  With  the  left  hand,  of  course — though' 
even  that  would  be  unheard  of." 

"I  swear  to  you  that  if  something  can't  be  done  to 
stop  him,  he  will  make  her  Empress  of  Rhaetia.  He 
has  told  me  so  to-day  with  his  own  lips." 

"Gad!  Little  Minnie  Brand!  I  didn't  half  ap- 
preciate her  brilliant  qualities." 

"Yet  I  wager,  Prince,  that  she  appreciated  yours." 

Apollo  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "I  believe  she 
liked  me.  Yes,  I  believe  that  wasn't  acting." 

"Is  it  long  since  you  parted — if  I  may  ask  as 
much?" 

"Oh  yes,  you  may  ask  and  be  answered,  Chan- 
cellor. It  is  only  long  enough  for  her  to  have  said 
good-bye  to  the  old  love,  and  taken  comfortably  up 
with  the  new." 

"But  what  if  she  still  cared  for  the  old — if  the  past 


820  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

could  be  revived  B  Prince,  I  tell  you  frankly,  I  now 
pin  all  my  hopes  on  you.  Even  when  I  thought  only 
that  if  a  meeting  between  you  two  could  be  arranged, 
your  fascinations  might  produce  a  speedy  effect — 
even  then  I  hoped  something.  Now,  I  hope  every- 
thing— if  you  will  consent  to  see  her.  I  beg  you  will 
do  tha,t — without  delay.  I  beg  that  you  will  send  up 
your  card,  and  request  the  lady  to  receive  you.  That 
alone  would  be  much  to  go  upon  with  the  Emperor, 
who  is  of  a  jealous  disposition;  but,  if  there  could 
be  more — if  you  could  persuade  her  to" — 

"Persuade  her  to — what  ?"  asked  the  Prince,  when 
the  old  man  paused  for  breath  and  inspiration. 

"If  she  would  go  to  your  hunting-lodge — if  the 
Emperor  could  know  that  she  was  there  he  would  be 
cured,  once  for  all.  Rhaetia  would  be  saved — by  you. 
And  regarding  the  business  that  I  think  has  brought 
you — what  could  be  better — for  everyone  con- 
cerned ?" 

"What,  indeed  ?"  echoed  the  Prince.  "For  every- 
one concerned,  except  for  Minnie  Brand." 

"After  what  she  has  done,  need  she  be  considered 
— before  the  interests  of  Rhaetia,  and  another  most 
innocent  Royal  lady,  whom  she  is  doing  her  best  to 
humiliate  and  put  to  shame  ?" 

"I  am  not  sure  that  she  need  be  so  considered," 
said  the  Prince.  "At  all  events — I  will  send  up  my 
card — to  Miss  de  Courcy.  As  for  the  rest — it  must 
manage  itself." 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

He  took  from  his  pocket  a  little  gold  carcl-case, 
sparkling1  with  jewels — a  trifle  which  advertised  it- 
self as  the  gift  of  a  woman.  "This  shall  go  upstairs," 
he  said,  selecting  a  bit  of  engraved  pasteboard.  "And 
then — we  shall  see." 

For  five  minutes,  for  ten  minutes,  after  the  de- 
parture of  the  small,  silent  messenger,  the  two  men 
waited,  talking  of  a  subject  near  to  both  their  hearts. 
But  at  the  end  of  that  time  word  came  that  Lady  and 
Miss  de  Courcy  would  see  the  Prince. 

"The  value  of  a  well-regulated  mother !"  laughed 
the  young  man,  who  had  not  requested  the  pleasure 
of  meeting  Lady  de  Courcy.  "Well,  whatever  comes 
of  this  interview,  I  shall  presently  have  something 
to  tell  you,  Chancellor." 

"The  suspense  will  be  hard  to  bear,"  said  the  old 
man.  "I  am  not  as  young  as  I  was,  and  these  past 
four  days  have  sorely  tried  meu  Remember,  I  pray 
you,  all  that  is  at  stake,  and  do  not  hesitate.  Have 
no  scruple  with  such  a  woman  as  this.  The  Em- 
peror will  shortly  be  returning.  He  will  lose  no  time 
in  seeing  the  girl,  and — once  they  have  had  another 
meeting,  all  our  precautions  will  be  too  late." 

The  Prince  did  not  smile  as  he  went  out. 

He  had  bidden  the  Chancellor  to  await  his  return 
in  the  salon  of  the  "Royal  suite,"  which  was  usually 
put  at  his  disposal  when  he  was  in  Rhaetia,  and 
drove  in  from  the  Niederwald  to  Salzbriick.  Other 
Royalties  from  foreign  countries,  or  from  the  prov- 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

inces,  occasionally  occupied  it  also — Hence  its  name ; 
and  Apollo  was  not  the  first  Prince  whom  old  Eber- 
hard  von  Markstein  had  visited  in  the  "Royal  suite" 
of  the  Hohenburgerhof.  The  Chancellor  knew  by 
heart  the  rich  purple  hangings  in  the  salon,  with  the 
gold  double  wolf-head  of  Rhaetia  embroidered  on 
their  folds ;  and  he  sickened  of  them  now,  as  the  mo- 
ments dragged  on  and  on,  and  he  was  left  alone. 

When  half  an  hour  had  passed,  he  could  no  longer 
sit  still  on  the  purple  velvet  sofa,  but  walked  up  and 
down,  his  hands'  behind  him,  scowling  at  the  full- 
length  portraits  of  Rhaetia's  former  Emperors,  glar- 
ing a  question  at  his  own  reflection  in  the  many  huge 
gold-framed  mirrors,  a  question  he  would  have  given 
his  life  to  hear  answered  in  the  way  he  wished. 

Three-quarters  of  an  hour  had  gone  at  last,  and 
still  the  Chancellor  paced  the  room  from  end  to  end, 
and  still  the  Prince  did  not  come  back  to  tell  the 
news.  Had  the  young  man  failed  him?  Had  that 
Vivien  upstairs  twisted  the  boy  round  her  ringer,  as 
she  had  twisted  one  who  was  stronger  and  greater 
than  he  ?  Was  it  possible  that  she  had  wormed  the 
whole  secret  from  the  Prince  and  then  ordered  him 
away  from  the  hotel,  leaving  her  enemy  fuming  in 
the  house? 

But  no,  there  were  footsteps  outside  the  door;  the 
handle  was  turned.  At  least  the  Prince  was  true  to 
his  promise. 

As  the  Chancellor  had  said,  he  was  no  longer  as 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

young  as  he  had  been.  His  lips  parted ;  yet  he  could 
not  speak,  when  he  would  have  asked  for  the  result. 
But  the  Prince  caught  the  appeal  in  the  glittering 
eyes,  and  did  not  wait  to  be  interrogated. 

"Well,  I  have  seen  the  lady,"  he  said,  in  a  voice 
that  was  indefinably  changed  in  the  interval  since 
he  and  the  Chancellor  had  separated. 
"And  she  is  the  one  you  had  known?" 
"Yes.     She  is  the  one  I  had  known.     What  is 
more,  Chancellor,  it — it's  all  right  about  that  plan 
of  yours.     She  is  going  with  me  to  Biinden." 
"She  is?    Heaven  be  praised!     When?" 
"At  once.    That  is,  as  soon  as  she  can  get  ready." 
"Nothing  could  be  better.     I  trust  she  goes  with 
you  alone  ?    The  presence  of  the  mother  as  chaperon 
would  be  unfortunate." 

"Oh,  no  chaperon  is  needed  for  us.  The — mother 
stops  behind  with  a  companion  they  have,  who  is  ill. 
It — er — it  was  a  little  difficult  to  arrange  this  matter, 
but — I  don't  think  the  plot  will  fail,  provided  you 
carry  through  your  part  as  well  as  I  have  mine." 

"The  lady  goes  with  you  quite  of  her  own  free 
will?" 

"I — er — I  flatter  myself  that  she  is  rather  pleased 
with  the  invitation.  In  half  an  hour  or  so,  if  all  is 
well,  I  and  the  lady  fair  will  be  on  our  way  to  my 
hunting-lodge,  to  spend  an  agreeable  evening  in  each 
other's  society  and  talk  over  old  times.  Fortunately 
I  went  straight  out  there  this  morning  before  coming 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

to  Salzbriick  to  see  you;  and  though  I  was  not  ex- 
pected back  to  dinner,  there  will  be  something-  eatable 
in  the  house,  I  daresay — something  I  need  not  be 
ashamed  to  offer  a  lady." 

The  Prince  pulled  a  hunting-watch  from  the 
pocket  of  an  elaborate  waistcoat  (he  merited  the 
reputation  of  being  the  best-dressed  young  man  in 
Europe)  and  consulted  it  reflectively.  "It  is  now 
nearly  four  thirty.  By  six,  the  hour  at  which  I 
should  have  sat  down  to  my  early  dinner  here  (alas, 
for  a  good  dinner  sacrificed  on  the  altar  of  duty!), 
we  shall  be  approaching  the  outskirts  of  the  Nieder- 
wald,  my  pretty  friend  and  I.  Biinden  is  three  miles 
farther  on,  my  place  two  miles  beyond  Biinden.  But 
before  seven  o'clock  I  shall  be  showing  the  lady  the 
beauties  of  my  Rhaetian  hunting-lodge,  which  I  have 
more  than  once  described  to  her.  Dinner  can,  on  one 
excuse  or  another,  be  delayed  until  nearly  nine,  if  it 
would  suit  your  book  to  find  us  in  the  midst  of  our 
repast.  My  dining-room  is  not  a  grand  salon,  but 
it  has  light  and  colour,  and  would  not  make  a  bad 
background  for  the  last  act  of  this  little  comedy. 
What  do  you  say,  Chancellor?  I  have  always 
thought  that  your  success  as  stage-manager  in  the 
Theatre  of  all  Nations  was  partially  due  to  your  re- 
gard for  dramatic  effects." 

"They  are  not  to  be  despised,"  assented  the  Chan- 
cellor. 

"Well,  I  promise  you  that  the  footlights  shall  be 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  225 

lighted,  the  stage  set,  and  two  of  your  leading  pup- 
pets dressed  and  painted  for  the  show,  precisely  at 
the  hour  of  nine.  When  can  you  count  on  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  third  ?" 

The  bristling  brows  met.  Von  Markstein  was 
working  without  scruple  against  Maximilian,  for 
Maximilian's  good;  yet  he  could  tolerate  no  light 
speaking  of  the  master  he  would  betray. 

"When  His  Majesty  telephones  to  me  from  Wan- 
deck  as  he  has  promised  to  do,  on  his  arrival  there," 
said  the  old  man  stiffly,  "I  shall  inform  him  of  what 
has  taken  place  in  his  absence.  If  I  know  him  in  his 
present  ardent  mood,  he  will  order  a  special  train  to 
return  to  Salzbriick.  In  that  case,  he  will  arrive  be- 
fore eight;  and  all  else  falling  as  I  now  confidently 
expect,  we  shall  be  able  to  reach  the  hunting-lodge 
by  half-past  nine." 

"You  will  find  us  at  the  third  course,"  prophesied 
the  Prince. 

"Naturally,  the  Emperor's  sudden  appearance  will 
come  as  a  blow  to  the  lady,"  returned  the  Chan- 
cellor, watching  with  veiled  keenness  the  other's  pla- 
cid, perfect  face.  "She  would  not  dare  take  the  risk 
if  she  dreamed  that  he  would  discover  her  escapade 
and  follow,  great  as  is  the  temptation  to  enjoy  your 
society;  indeed,  Prince,  you  must  have  found  subtle 
weapons  to  break  so  soon  through  the  armour  of  her 
prudence.  I  expected  much  from  your  courage  and 
resource,  once  enlisted  in  the  cause,  yet  I  hardly  ven- 


226  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

tured  to  expect  such  speedy,  such  unqualified  success 
as  this  that  seems  assurred." 

"My  weapons  were  sharpened  on  my  past  ac- 
quaintance with  the  lady,"  explained  the  Prince. 
"Without  that,  the  desired  result  might  have  waited 
as  many  days  as  it  has  taken  moments,  though,  at 
last,  the  end  would  perhaps  have  been  the  same." 

"Not  for  Rhaetia.  Every  moment  counts  with  us, 
as  I  have  said.  Thanks  to  you,  we  shall  win;  for 
actress  as  this  woman  is,  she  will  find  the  justification 
of  an  evening  tete-a-tete  with  you,  at  your  hunting- 
lodge  in  the  country,  a  task  beyond  her  powers." 

"If  she  makes  the  effort,  we  can  afford  to  be  audi- 
ence and  amuse  ourselves  with  her  acting,  as  the 
comedy  plays  itself  out,"  said  the  Prince.  "There  is 
no  doubt  in  my  mind — whatever  may  be  her  concep- 
tion of  the  part — as  to  the  final  tableau.  And,  after 
all,  it  is  that  alone  with  which  you  concern  your- 
self— eh,  Chancellor?" 

"It  is  that  alone,"  echoed  the  old  man.  "And  now, 
lest  by  a  hitch  in  the  stage  mechnism — since  you 
choose  that  figure  of  speech — something  should  yet 
go  wrong,  I  must  make  haste  home,  that  I  may  be 
in  time  to  receive  the  Emperor's  communication 
from  Wandeck." 

"If  he  should  forget  to  send — there  would  be 
rather  a  serious  hitch,  would  it  not?" 

"The  Emperor  has  never,  in  my  knowledge  of  him, 
forgotten  to  keep  a  promise,  and  I  am  certain  he  is 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  227 


not  enough  changed  to  do  so  even  now.  54u  revoir, 
Prince;  till  half-past  nine." 

"Till  half-past  nine,  when  a  warm  welcome  awaits 
you,  from  one  of  the  'dramatis  persona.  For  the 
other  —  I  cannot  answer." 

Laughing,  the  two  grasped  hands  on  their  under- 
standing. The  Chancellor  went  out  to  his  carriage, 
which  had  been  kept  at  the  door  ;  and  a  few  minutes 
later  he  was  conversing  with  Maximilian  through 
the  telephone. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  OLDNESS  OF  THE  CHANCELLOR 

MAXIMILIAN  had  not  made  an  appointment  with  the 
Chancellor  through  the  telephone,  either  for  an  hour 
or  place  of  meeting.  He  had  been  in  no  mood  at 
the  time  for  the  cool  mapping  out  of  details;  and 
later,  when  there  had  been  plenty  of  leisure  for  re- 
flection, he  had  let  himself  hope  that  the  Chancellor 
would  already  be  willing  to  qualify  his  rash  accusa- 
tions. If  this  were  so,  the  old  man  would  be  as  eager 
to  avoid  a  visit  to  the  hunting-lodge  as  he  had  been 
a  few  hours  ago  to  propose  it.  Maximilian  did  not 
mean  to  let  von  Markstein  escape  the  obligation  of 
this  visit,  but  he  would  have  triumphed  in  the  Chan- 
cellor's desire  to  evade  it,  which  would  have  meant 
much. 

"If  he  still  persists  in  his  abominable  idea  that  she 
has  gone  to  the  hunting-lodge,"  thought  the  Em- 
peror (with  that  vagueness  of  expression  which  lov- 
ers of  high  or  low  degree  use  in  designating  the  one 
woman  in  the  world),  "he  will  risk  no  chance  of 

228 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  229 

missing  me,  but  will  be  waiting  at  the  station. 
Should  he,  on  the  contrary,  have  had  reason  since 
our  talk  to  doubt  the  accuracy  of  his  own  informa- 
tion, he  will  take  advantage  of  the  uncertainty  I've 
left  him  in  regarding  my  movements,  to  keep  out  of 
the  way." 

So  arguing,  Maximilian  looked  sharply  from  the 
window  as  his  special  train  entered  the  Salzbriick 
station,  along  the  track  that  had  been  kept  clear  for 
its  arrival.  No  other  train  was  due  from  any  direc- 
tion at  the  moment,  therefore  few  persons  were  on 
the  platform,  and  a  figure  in  a  long  grey  coat,  with 
its  face  shadowed  by  a  slouch  hat,  was  all  the  more 
conspicuous.  Maximilian's  heart  sank.  He  believed 
in  his  love,  but  he  would  have  preferred  the  Chan- 
cellor's absence. 

"I  hope  that  your  Majesty  will  forgive  the  liberty 
I  have  taken  in  being  here,  to  place  myself  at  your 
convenience  and  so  avoid  delay,"  were  the  old  man's 
first  words,  as  he  took  off  his  hat  to  the  Emperor. 
"I  drove  down  from  my  house  some  time  ago,  ex- 
pecting that  you  might  arrive  by  special  train ;  and  I 
need  hardly  say  that  my  carriage,  which  is  waiting, 
is  at  your  disposal  for  any  use  you  may  care  to  make 
of  it." 

"I  wish  to  go  instantly  to  the  hunting-lodge  near 
Bunden,"  said  the  Emperor,  watching  the  other's 
face,  and  still  hoping  against  hope  for  a  visible  sign 
of  discomfiture.  But  he  was  not  to  be  gratified. 


"I  was  prepared  for  that  wish,  your  Majesty," 
promptly  said  the  Chancellor.  "The  horses  are 
fresh,  and  they  will  make  the  journey  in  an  hour  and 
a  half." 

"Very  well,  then,  there  is  nothing  that  need  delay 
us.  You  are  ready  to  go  with  me,  of  course  ?"  An- 
other detective  glance,  destined  again  to  pass  unre- 
warded by  revelations. 

"I  am  ready,  your  Majesty — as  always,  I  trust, 
when  I  am  needed." 

It  was  on  Maximilian's  tongue  to  say  that  it  would 
be  well  if  his  Chancellor's  readiness  confined  itself 
entirely  to  such  occasions ;  but  he  shut  his  lips  upon 
the  words  and  walked  by  the  old  man's  side  in  frozen 
silence. 

It  was  not  yet  eight  o'clock,  but  the  month  of  Oc- 
tober had  just  begun,  and  the  sun  having  set  an  hour 
or  more  ago,  the  swiftly  fading  Rhaetian  twilight 
had  darkened  into  a  starlit  night.  Though  the  day 
had  been  warm,  there  was  now  a  crisp  keenness  in 
the  air,  and  the  Chancellor's  coachman  and  groom 
had  prepared  themselves  with  high  sable  collars  for 
their  country  drive. 

The  horses,  which  had  been  kept  moving  up  and 
down  the  long  straight  avenue  of  the  Bahnhof 
Strasse,  were  nervous  and  restive,  and  no  sooner  had 
the  green-liveried  footman  shut  the  carriage  door 
than  they  bounded  off  at  a  pace  almost  beyond  con- 
trol. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  231 

Both  windows  were  closed,  to  keep  out  the  chill, 
but  Maximilian  impatiently  lowered  the  one  nearest 
him,  forgetting  the  Chancellor's  tendency  to  rheuma- 
tism, and  stared  into  the  night.  The  railway  station 
was  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town ;  and  speedily  pass- 
ing the  few  warehouses  and  factories  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, they  struck  into  the  open  country.  There 
was  a  pungent  scent  of  dying  leaves  on  the  breeze 
that  blew  in  through  the  open  window,  and  Maxi- 
milian knew  that  never  again  could  he  inhale  the 
melancholy  fragrance  of  the  falling  year  without  re- 
calling this  hour,  so  vivid  with  sensations. 

He  was  desperately  eager  to  reach  the  end  of  the 
journey,  that  the  Chancellor  might  be  confounded 
once  for  all ;  yet,  as  the  horses'  hoofs  rang  tunefully 
along  the  hard  roads,  and  landmark  after  landmark 
glided  out  of  sight  among  tree-branches  thickly  laced 
with  stars,  he  would  have  stayed  the  passing  mo- 
ments if  he  could.  He  wished  to  know,  yet  he  did 
not  wish  to  know.  He  burned  to  ask  questions,  yet 
would  have  died  rather  than  put  them. 

It  was  a  relief  when  von  Markstein  spoke  at  last ; 
a  relief  that  brought  a  prick  of  resentment  with  it; 
for  even  the  Chancellor  had  no  right  to  break  a 
silence  that  the  Emperor  kept. 

"Your  Majesty's  anger  is  hard  to  bear.  Yet  I  can 
bear  it  uncomplainingly  because  I  am  confident  that 
my  reward  is  not  far  off.  I  look  for  it  no  further  in 
the  future  than  to-night." 


232  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"And  I  think  that  you  will  get  your  reward !"  re- 
torted the  Emperor  sharply. 

"Not  only  in  your  forgiveness,  but  your  thanks." 

"I  will  forgive  you  when  you  have  found  Miss  de 
Courcy  for  me,  and  begged  her  pardon  for  your 
calumnies." 

"I  have  already  found  her,  your  Majesty,  and  am 
taking  you  to  her  now." 

"You  actually  believe  your  own  story,  von  Mark- 
stein  ?  You  believe  that  this  sweet  and  gracious  lady 
is  a  fast  actress,  a  friend  of  your  notoriously  gallant 
friend,  and  willing  to  compromise  her  good  name  by 
paying  a  night  visit  to  his  hunting-lodge?  You 
really  think  that  we  shall  see  her  there?" 

"I  shall  see  her,  your  Majesty.  And  you  will  see 
her,  if  this  madness  you  call  love  has  not  blinded  the 
eyes  of  your  body  as  well  as  of  your  mind.  That 
she  is  there  I  know,  for  the  Prince  told  me  with  his 
own  lips  that  she  was  driving  out  to  the  lodge  with 
him  this  afternoon." 

"You  mean  that  he  told  you  his  friend  the  actress 
was  going.  I'll  stake  my  life  he  did  not  dare  to  say 
Miss  de  Courcy." 

"He  said  Miss  Brand,  the  actress,  it  is  true.  But 
when  he  called  upon  her  at  the  Hohenburgerhof 
(where  he  and  I  had  met  to  talk  of  a  matter  which 
can  be  no  mystery  to  your  Majesty)  he  asked  for 
Miss  de  Courcy.  And  the  message  which  came  down 
was  that  Miss  de  Courcy  would  see  him.  This  left 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  283 

no  doubt  in  my  mind  (however  the  matter  may  pre- 
sent itself  to  you)  that  she  had  remained  in  Salz- 
briick,  after  giving  out  that  she  was  departing  to- 
day, for  the  express  purpose  of  a  meeting  with  her 
old  friend  the  Prince.  She  probably  hoped  that,  as 
she  was  supposed  to  be  gone,  her  indiscretion  might 
be  hidden  from  your  Majesty  and  others." 

"Pray  spare  me  your  deductions,  Chancellor,"  said 
the  Emperor  curtly.  "I  am  with  you  in  this  expedi- 
tion to  prove  you  wrong,  not  right,  and  nothing  that 
you  can  say  will  convince  me  that  the  Prince's  friend 
and  Miss  de  Courcy  are  one.  If  we  find  a  woman  at 
the  hunting-lodge  it  will  not  be  the  lady  we  seek; 
and  as  you  will  presently  be  ready  to  eat  the  words 
you  have  spoken,  the  fewer  such  bitter  pills  you  have 
to  swallow  the  better." 

So  snubbed  by  the  young  man  whom  he  had  held 
in  his  arms,  an  imperious  as  well  as  Imperial  infant, 
the  old  statesman  relapsed  into  silence.  But  he  had 
said  that  which  had  been  in  his  mind  to  say,  and  he 
was  satisfied  to  know  that  it  was  left  to  rankle. 
Meekness  was  not  his  metier,  but  he  could  play  the 
part  of  the  faithful  retainer,  humbly  loyal  through 
injustice  and  misunderstanding,  when  it  was  the  one 
effective  role;  and  he  played  it  now  to  perfection. 
He  sat  with  bowed  head  and  stooping  shoulders, 
suggesting  the  weakness  of  old  age,  his  hands  clasped 
on  his  knee;  and  from  time  to  time  he  breathed  a 
stifled  sigh. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

His  silent  pathos  wrung  no  sign  of  relenting  from 
Maximilian,  however,  and  not  a  word  was  ex- 
changed between  the  two  men  for  nearly  an  hour, 
until  they  had  driven  under  the  dark  arch  of  the  first 
trees  of  the  Niederwald.  Then  it  was  the  Emperor 
who  spoke. 

"You  have  led  me  to  suppose  that  our  call  at  the 
hunting-lodge  is  to  take  its  master  by  surprise.  Is 
that  supposition  the  correct  one,  Chancellor?" 

Count  von  Markstein  would  greatly  have  pre- 
ferred that  this  question  should  have  remained  in 
abeyance.  He  had  intended  to  convey  the  impression 
credited  to  him  by  the  Emperor,  but  he  had  not 
wished  to  clothe  it  in  actual  statement.  The  Prince 
understood  that  he  was  to  be  the  leading  actor  in  the 
"little  comedy"  to  which  he  had  merrily  referred, 
and  he  would  know  how  to  feign  the  astonishment 
indispensable  to  success.  It  was  to  be  hoped  that  he 
would  have  the  skill  to  carry  it  out  to  the  end,  since 
the  Chancellor  was  now  called  upon  irrevocably  to 
commit  himself. 

"Were  our  visit  expected,  we  should  not  be  likely 
to  find  the  lady,  your  Majesty.  The  Prince,  who  is 
on  terms  of  confidence  with  me,  did  not  hesitate  to 
mention  that  he  was  to  have  a  pretty  actress  as  his 
guest ;  how  could  he  dream  that  the  event  would  be 
of  importance  to  the  Emperor  of  Rhaetia  ?  But  had 
he  known  that  the  entertainment  he  meant  to  offer 
her  might  be  interrupted,  naturally  he  would,  out  of 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  235 

consideration  for  the  lady's  feelings,  have  taken 
means  to  secure  her  against  embarrassment." 

"This  night's  work  will  give  him  cause  to  pick  a 
private  quarrel  with  me,  if  he  chooses,"  said  the  Em- 
peror, satisfied  at  least  of  the  Chancellor's  integrity. 

"I  do  not  think  that  he  will  choose,  your  Majesty. 
You  are  in  a  mood  to  be  glad  if  he  did,  I  fear.  But, 
after  all,  I  need  not  fear.  You  will  always  remem- 
ber Rhaetia  and  put  her  interests  before  your  own." 

"You  did  not  feel  so  confident  of  that  a  few  hours 
ago,  Chancellor." 

"I  was  taken  by  surprise.  But  I  knew  well  enough 
in  my  heart  that  when  the  test  should  come,  your 
Majesty's  cool  head  would  prevail  over  the  hot  im- 
pulses of  youth.  See,  we  are  passing  through  the 
village  of  Bunden,  fast  asleep  already,  every  window 
dark.  In  another  ten  minutes  we  shall  be  at  the 
lodge  gates." 

The  Emperor  laughed  shortly  and  somewhat  bit- 
terly. "Add  twice  ten  minutes  to  that,  and  we  shall 
be  out  of  the  lodge  gates  again,  with  Chancellor  von 
Markstein  a  sadder  and  a  wiser  man." 

Meekness  was  once  more  the  role  for  Iron  Heart, 
and  lifting  his  hands,  palm  upwards,  in  a  gesture  of 
generous  indulgence,  he  denied  himself  the  satisfac- 
tion of  retort. 

The  hunting-lodge,  now  the  property  of  the  Chan- 
cellor's accommodating  young  friend,  had  until  a 
year  ago  belonged  to  a  Rhaetian  semi-royal  prince, 


236  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

who  had  been  forced  by  lack  of  sympathy  among  his 
creditors  to  sell.  The  present  owner  was  a  keen 
sportsman,  and,  though  he  came  seldom,  had  spent  a 
good  deal  of  money  upon  much  needed  repairing  of 
the  quaint  old  house  in  the  woods.  It  was  years 
since  the  Emperor  had  visited  the  place,  and  the  very 
outlines  of  the  low  rambling  structure  looked  strange 
to  him,  as  in  the  distance  they  were  silhouetted 
against  a  spangled  sky.  He  was  glad  of  this;  for 
he  had  spent  some  happy  days  here  as  a  boy,  and  he 
wished  to  separate  from  the  past  the  impressions 
which  to-night  must  engrave  upon  his  mind. 

Two  tall  chimneys  stood  up  like  the  erected  ears 
of  some  alert/ crouching  animal;  the  path  to  the 
lodge  gleamed  white  and  straight  in  the  darkness  as 
a  parting  in  the  rough  black  hair  of  a  giant;  the 
trees  of  the  forest  gossipped  together  in  the  wind.  It 
seemed  to  Maximilian  now  that  they  were  evil  things 
who  told  lies,  slandering  his  love,  and  he  hated  them, 
and  their  rustling;  he  hated  the  two  yellow  eyes  of 
the  animal  with  pricked  ears,  which  were  only 
lighted  windows ;  he  hated  the  young  Prince  who  had 
bought  the  right  to  bring  scandal  to  this  quiet  place, 
and  he  would  have  hated  the  Chancellor,  had  not  the 
old  man  limped  as  he  stepped  down  from  the  car- 
riage, showing  how  heavy  was  the  burden  of  his 
years,  as  he  had  never  shown  it  before. 

The  carriage  was  bidden  to  wait  at  a  little  dis- 
tance from  the  lodge,  and  Maximilian,  with  Iron 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  237 

Heart  at  his  side,  walked  up  the  path  that  led  to  a 
hooded  entrance.  They  ascended  the  two  or  three 
stone  steps,  and  the  Chancellor  raised  the  mailed, 
clenched  fist  that  did  duty  as  a  knocker.  Twice  he 
brought  it  down  on  the  oak  panel,  and  the  sound  of 
the  metal  ringing  against  wood  went  echoing  away 
through  the  house,  with  an  effect  of  emptiness  and 
desolation. 

Nobody  came  to  answer  the  summons,  and  Maxi- 
milian smiled  in  the  darkness.  He  did  not  believe 
even  that  the  Prince  was  there ;  a  practical  joke  had 
been  played  upon  the  Chancellor. 

Again  the  mailed  fist  rang  on  oak.  Only  the  echo 
replied.  Von  Markstein  was  alarmed.  He  thanked 
the  night,  which  hid  the  tell-tale  vein  beating  on  his 
forehead  from  the  keen  eyes  of  the  Emperor. 

"I  begin  to  think,  von  Markstein,  that  we  might 
as  well  look  for  Miss  de  Courcy  in  a  more  likely, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  more  becoming  place,"  he  re- 
marked, with  a  drawl  meant  to  be  aggravating. 
"There  doesn't  seem  to  be  anyone  here;  even  the 
caretaker  is  out  courting,  perhaps." 

"But  listen,  your  Majesty,"  said  the  Chancellor. 

Maximilian  did  listen.  Steps  could  be  heard  ap- 
proaching the  door  inside  the  house — the  sound  of  a 
heel  on  a  floor  of  stone  or  marble. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  OPENING  OF  A  DOOR 

IT  was  a  jager  who  opened  the  door  of  the  hunting- 
lodge  and  gazed  at  the  two  men  standing  in  the 
shadow  of  the  porch,  apparently  without  recognition. 

"We  wish  to  see  the  Prince,"  said  the  Chancellor 
crisply,  taking  the  initiative,  as  he  knew  that  the 
Emperor  would  desire  him  to  do. 

"The  Prince  is  not  at  home,  sir,"  returned  the 
jager. 

Maximilian's  eyes  lightened  as  he  threw  a  glance 
of  sarcastic  meaning  at  his  companion.  But  Iron 
Heart  was  undaunted.  He  knew  very  well  now  that 
this  was  only  a  prelude  to  the  comedy,  and  though 
he  had  had  a  pang  of  anxiety  at  first,  he  thought  that 
his  young  friend  was  playing  the  part  allotted  him 
with  commendable  realism.  Naturally,  when  beauti- 
ful actresses  came  into  the  country  unchaperoned,  to 
dine  with  fascinating  Princes,  the  least  such  fa- 
voured Royalties  could  do  was  to  issue  notices  to  an 
intrusive  public  that  they  were  "not  at  home." 

238 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

"You  are  mistaken,"  returned  the  Chancellor. 
"The  Prince  is  at  home,  and  he  will  receive  us.  It 
will  be  better  for  you  to  admit  us  without  further 
parley." 

Under  the  domination  of  the  eyes  which  could 
quell  a  Reichstag,  the  jager  weakened,  as  doubtless 
his  master  had  expected  would  happen  in  good  time. 
"It  may  be  that  I  have  made  a  mistake,  sir,"  he 
stammered,  "though  I  do  not  think  so.  If  you  will 
have  the  kindness  to  walk  in  and  wait  until  I  can  in- 
quire whether  the  Prince  has  come  home,  or  when 
he  is  likely  to  come  home,  I" — 

"That  is  not  necessary,"  said  the  Chancellor. 
"The  Prince  dines  here  with  a  lady  this  evening. 
We  will  go  with  you  to  the  door  of  the  dining-room, 
and  follow  your  announcement  of  our  presence." 

But  the  jager  was  no  longer  uncertain  of  his 
duty.  The  reaction  had  come,  and  he  faced  the  in- 
vaders boldly.  If  his  master  had  given  instructions 
only  to  be  overridden,  at  least  the  servant  was  sin- 
cere in  his  respect  for  them.  He  put  himself  in  the 
doorway,  and  looked  a  barrier  formidable  to  dis- 
lodge. 

"That  is  impossible,  sir !"  he  exclaimed.  "I  have 
my  orders,  which  are  that  His  Royal  Highness  is 
not  at  home  to-night,  and  until  I  find  out  differently, 
nobody,  not  if  it  were  the  Emperor  himself,  should 
force  himself  in." 

"You  fool,  those  orders  are  not  for  us;  and  it  is 


240  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

the  Emperor  who  will  go  in."  WitH  a  step  aside, 
the  Chancellor  let  the  light  from  a  hanging  lamp  in 
the  hall  shine  full  upon  Maximilian's  face,  hitherto 
masked  in  shadow. 

His  boast  forgotten,  the  jager  uttered  an  exclama- 
tion of  dismay,  and,  with  a  sudden  failing  of  the 
knees,  he  left  the  doorway  free. 

"Your  Majesty!"  he  faltered.  "I  did  not  see — 
I  could  not  know!  Most  humbly  I  beg  your  Maj- 
esty's gracious  pardon.  If  your  Majesty  will  but 
hold  me  blameless  with  His  Royal  Highness" — 

"Never  mind  yourself,  and  never  mind  His  Royal 
Highness,"  broke  in  the  Chancellor.  "Open  that 
door  at  the  end  of  the  hall,  and  announce  the  Em- 
peror and  Count  von  Markstein." 

The  unfortunate  jager,  well-nigh  in  a  state  of  col- 
lapse, obeyed.  The  door  of  the  dining-room,  which 
Maximilian  knew  of  old,  was  flung  wide,  and  a 
quavering  voice  made  known  to  whom  it  might  con- 
cern the  arrival  of  "His  Imperial  Majesty  the  Em- 
peror and  the  Herr  Chancellor  von  Markstein." 

The  scene  disclosed  was  as  unreal,  in  Maximilian's 
eyes,  as  a  painted  picture:  The  walls  of  Pompeian 
red,  the  bronze  candelabra,  the  polished  floor,  with 
rugs  of  creamy  fur,  and  in  the  centre  a  flower-decked 
table  glittering  with  lights,  sparkling  with  silver; 
springing  up  from  his  chair  a  young  man  in  evening 
dress,  who  faced  the  door;  sitting  motionless,  her 
back  half  turned,  a  slender  girl  in  satin  of  bridal 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

white,  her  uncovered  shoulders  gleaming  with*  the 
soft  sheen  of  pearl  in  the  candle-light.  This  was  the 
stage  setting ;  these  the  characters  discovered. 

At  sight  of  the  girl  Maximilian  stopped  on  the 
threshold.  All  the  blood  in  his  body  seemed  rushing 
to  his  head,  then  surging  back  again  upon  his  heart. 
The  impossible  had  happened.  His  star  had  fallen 
from  heaven,  and  the  sky  was  dark. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE   THIRD    COURSE 

THE  Prince  came  forward.  "What  a  delightful  sur- 
prise!" he  exclaimed.  "How  good  of  you  both  to 
look  me  up!  But  I  wish  my  prophetic  soul  had 
hinted  to  me  that  it  would  have  been  well  to  delay 
dinner.  We  have  just  reached  the  third  course." 

His  eyes  met  the  Chancellor's,  then  hid  a  twinkle 
under  lashes  that  a  professional  beauty  might  have 
envied.  "You  must  honour  me  by  dining  with  us," 
he  went  on.  "All  will  be  ready  in  a  moment,  and  I 
keep  a  man  here  whose  bisque  d'ecrevisse  is  not  half 
bad." 

"Thanks,"  said  Maximilian,  "we  cannot  dine. 
Our  visit  is  purely  one  of  business,  and  a  moment 
will  see  it  finished.  We  owe  you  an  explanation  for 
intruding  upon  you  in  this  manner."  He  paused;  all 
his  calculations  were  upset  by  von  Markstein's  tri- 
umph; deliberately  to  plan  beforehand  what  he 
would  do  if  he  should  find  Miss  de  Courcy  in  this 
man's  house  would  have  been  to  insult  her.  He  had 

242 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  243 

merely  arranged  a  campaign  in  the  event  of  the 
Chancellor's  defeat.  Now,  the  one  course  which  ap- 
pealed to  him  was  frankness.  He  did  not  look  at  the 
girl,  though  he  saw  her,  and  her  alone,  with  his  eyes 
coldly  fixed  upon  the  Prince.  He  knew  that  she  had 
risen,  not  in  haste,  as  one  who  is  detected  and 
ashamed,  but  with  a  leasured  and  dainty  dignity,  as 
if  concerned  only  to  respect  his  rank.  Her  face  was 
turned  toward  him  now  ;  he  felt  it — as  a  blind 
man  may  feel  the  rising  of  the  sun — though  still  he 
would  not  look.  No  longer  ago  than  last  night  at 
this  hour  they  had  been  together  in  the  garden  at 
Schloss  Lynarberg ;  he  had  held  her  in  his  arms ;  she 
had  made  him  think  she  loved  him.  She  had  acted 
an  agony  of  resentment  because  he  had  offered  her 
his  heart  in  his  left  hand.  Now  she  was  here  with 
this  butterfly  who  flitted  through  life  in  a  rose-gar- 
den of  pretty  women.  They  had  been  laughing  and 
talking  before  they  were  interrupted — these  two  at 
the  dinner-table.  The  champagne  glass  beside  her 
plate  was  half  full.  On  the  plate  was  fish,  with  a 
pink  sauce ;  she  had  been  enjoying  her  dinner  in  the 
Prince's  company.  Maximilian  was  not  conscious 
that  he  had  seen  and  noted  all  these  trifling  details 
which,  together,  proved  her  a  soulless  thing,  light 
and  worthless  as  a  piece  of  thistledown ;  yet  each  one 
was  like  a  separate  poisoned  thorn  that  rankled  in 
his  flesh. 

His  pause,  his  search  for  the  words  of  explana- 


tion  which  he  had  volunteered,  was  really  brief — 
scarcely  so  long  as  to  count  for  a  pause  at  all ;  yet  he 
had  aged  in  it.  He  felt  that  youth  and  the  joy  of 
life  had  fallen  from  him  like  a  mantle,  since  he 
stepped  across  the  threshold. 

"I  have  spent  some  hours  to-day,"  he  said,  "in 
looking  for  this  lady.  I  was  told  that  I  should  find 
her  in  your  company.  I  came,  and  brought  Count 
von  Markstein,  to  prove  to  him  that  he  was  mis- 
taken. Instead,  my  mistake  has  been  proved  to  his 
satisfaction,  since  Miss  de  Courcy  is  here." 

"Miss  de  Courcy  is  not  here,"  broke  in  trie  girl, 
speaking  for  the  first  time.  "I  have  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  she  is  in  India." 

"I  would  to  Heaven  that  you  were  with  her,  or 
anywhere  on  earth  but  where  you  are!"  cried  the 
Emperor.  He  turned  to  the  Prince.  "You  have  my 
explanation,"  he  said.  "It  remains  only  for  Count 
von  Markstein  and  me  to  bid  you  and  this  lady  good- 
night." 

The  twinkle  had  died  out  of  the  Prince's  eyes,  and 
they  sparkled  with  another  light.  The  scene,  though 
planned,  had  not  been  rehearsed ;  and  the  effect  upon 
himself,  now  that  it  came  to  be  acted,  differed  from 
his  expectations.  His  quick  temper,  never  too  fast 
asleep  to  wake  at  the  first  call,  sprang  up  under  the 
look  in  Maximilian's  eyes. 

"You'll  not  bid  her  good-night  in  that  manner,  if 
vou  please/'  he  angrily  began,  wh^n  the  girl,  catchr 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

ing  his  arm,  cut  him  short.  The  famaliar  way  in 
which  she  touched  the  gay  young  Apollo,  resting 
against  his  shoulder,  sent  a  red-hot  dart  of  pain 
through  Maximilian's  nerves,  and  he  scorned  him- 
self for  it,  because  his  love  ought  already  to  have 
been  uprooted,  like  a  noxious  weed. 

"Wait,  wait!"  she  cried.  "This  is  my  affair, 
please.  You  see,  the  difficulty  is  that  the  Emperor 
doesn't  know  who  I  am,  and" — 

"It  is  time  I  told  him !"  exclaimed  the  Prince. 

"Let  the  Chancellor  do  that,"  said  she.  "I  can 
see  he  is  dying  to.  And  as  he  has  taken  a  great  deal 
of  trouble,  he  deserves  some  reward." 

"I  have  already  informed  His  Imperial  Majesty 
that  he  would  find  with  the  Prince  Miss  Minnie 
Brand,  an  English  actress" — the  old  man  bowed, 
sneering — "justly  famous  for  her  talents." 

"And  His  Majesty.  What  does  he  say?"  The 
girl's  voice  sounded  anxious  now,  even  wistful.  She 
still  stood  beside  the  Prince,  but  her  eyes  so  ap- 
pealed to  Maximilian's  that  he  could  not  withhold 
them,  granting  her  at  last  a  cold  and  fixed  regard. 

"I  say  nothing,"  he  answered.  "You  have  left  me 
nothing  to  say.  You  are  the  Prince's  friend.  You 
do  not  need  anything  that  I  can  give." 

"Yet  last  night,"  she  cried,  "you  said  you  loved 
me." 

"Is  this  the  place  to  remind  me  of  that?"  he  de- 
manded fiercely. 


"Yes ;  because  I  came  here  hoping  that  you  would 
follow.  I  do  care  for  the  Prince;  I  should  be  very 
ungrateful  if  I  didn't;  but  I  care  far  more  for  you." 

The  boldness  of  the  announcement,  its  astounding 
impertinence,  coming  as  it  did,  when  and  where  it 
did,  was  like  a  smart  box  upon  the  ear,  literally  stag- 
gering Maximilian.  Sparks  danced  before  his  eyes. 
He  opened  his  lips  to  answer  her  with  deadly  bitter- 
ness, but  did  not  speak.  With  one  look,  that  pent  up 
all  the  passion  of  outraged  love,  and  a  fury  of  dis- 
appointment that  was  and  must  ever  be  unutterable, 
he  turned  upon  his  heel. 

"You  would  go  and  leave  me  Here?"  exclaimed 
the  girl. 

He  wheeled  round  in  tHe  doorway.  "I  am  not 
sure  how  to  address  you,"  he  said,  "since  you  no 
longer  claim  the  name  by  which  I  have  thought  of 
you,  nor  do  I  seem  any  longer  to  know  you.  But  if 
there  be  the  slightest  doubt  in  your  mind  as  to  your 
desire  to  stay  here,  I — Count  von  Markstein  and  I — 
would  gladly  place  our  carriage  at  your  service." 

She  ran  to  him,  holding  out  both  hands,  like  a 
child  who  asks  indulgence.  "If  I  can  explain,"  she 
said,  with  quickening  breath,  her  eyes  shining,  star- 
like,  "if  I  tell  you  that  it  is  quite,  quite  a  mistake, 
that  there  was  no  thought  of  harm  in  my  coming 
to  this  house,  that  I  am  true  to  all  you  thought  me,  to 
all  I  hope  you  thought  me,  will  you  believe  my 
word?" 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

Maximilian  looked  her  in  the  eyes  and  straightway 
forgot  that  he  and  she  were  not  alone.  And  the 
Chancellor  saw  that  he  forgot,  and  wished  much  to 
remind  him  of  many  things  connected  with  his  own 
presence.  But  even  he  dared  not  speak  at  that  in- 
stant, and  had  to  listen,  biting  his  lip  with  a  well- 
preserved  tooth. 

"Believe  your  word !"  the  Emperor  echoed  slowly. 
He  would  have  said,  "Why  should  I  believe  it,  when 
it  is  enough  that  I  believe  my  eyes?"  But  he  was 
gazing  into  hers,  and  so  he  could  not  say  it.  No 
other  woman's  eyes  had  ever  before  had  power  to 
play  tricks  with  his  will,  therefore  he  was  the  more 
ready  to  fall  under  the  spell  of  hers.  "I  must  be- 
lieve it !'  he  pronounced.  "It  is  death  to  doubt  you. 
Tell  me  you  are  all  I  thought  you,  show  me  how  it 
can  be  so,  and  I  will  believe  in  spite  of  everything." 

"Your  Majesty!"  groaned  the  Chancellor.  But 
His  Majesty  did  not  hear.  It  was  the  Prince  who 
drowned  the  warning. 

"Oh,  come !"  he  exclaimed,  "this  is  going  farther 
than  I  bargained  for.  I  can't  stand  all  this  talk  about 
'doubting'  and  'proving.'  The  whole  thing" — 

"Is  for  me  to  explain,  not  you,"  broke  in  Sylvia. 
"It  is  my  right.  I  will  not  have  it  taken  from  me. 
Maximilian,  last  night  you  said  that  you  cared  for 
me,  or — this  would  never  have  happened.  A  few 
moments  ago  you  asked  if  the  Prince's  hunting-lodge 
were  a  fit  place  for  me  to  remind  you  of  that,  and  I 


243  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

answered  'yes.'  It  was  not  time  to  tell  you  why,  then, 
but  it  is  time  now.  I  said  that  this  was  the  proper 
place,  because  it  is  my  brother's  house,  and  if  we  are 
ever  to  be  anything  to  one  another,  it  is  fitting  that 
my  brother  should  put  my  hand  in  yours." 

"At  last,  then,  I  can  introduce  my  sister,  Princess 
Sylvia  of  Eltzburg-Neuwald,"  ejaculated  the  Crown 
Prince  of  Abruzzia,  with  a  sigh  of  overwhelming 
relief. 

For  a  moment  nobody  spoke.  The  room  seemed 
to  ring  with  Friedrich's  words,  with  the  name  which, 
till  now,  had  held  so  little  music  for  Maximilian's 
ears.  He  heard  it  and  was  speechless,  even  as  the 
Chancellor  was  speechless.  He  looked  at  Friedrich, 
as  if  he  would  have  spoken ;  he  looked  at  Sylvia,  and 
forgot  to  speak.  She  held  out  her  hands  once  more, 
and  with  an  impulse  which  he  did  not  strive  to  con- 
trol, he  went  down  upon  one  knee  as  he  caught  and 
kissed  them. 

Long  ago  she  had  vowed  that  he  should  bend  the 
knee  to  her,  if  he  were  to  win  her;  but  now  that  the 
prophecy  proved  true,  she  bade  him  rise  as  he  whis- 
pered the  one  word  "Forgive !" 

"Oh,  it  is  I  who  must  be  forgiven !"  she  said,  with 
tears  instead  of  triumph  in  her  voice.  "You  don't 
half  understand  yet." 

Friedrich  and  Count  von  Markstein  stole  from  the 
room  and  were  not  missed.  Their  parts  were  played. 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA  249 

"I  want  no  explanation,"  Maximilian  answered. 
"I  want  only  you." 

"I  won't  try  to  tell  you  how  it  all  began — not  now. 
But  my  ears  tingle  still  with  some  words  which  my 
actions  gave  you  the  right  to  speak,"  she  urged. 
"Last  night  I  wanted  to  go  into  a  convent,  and, 
above  all  things,  I  wished  to  get  away  from  Rhaetia. 
We  were  forced  to  wait,  because  of  Miss  M'Pher- 
son's  illness.  When  Count  von  Markstein  called,  we 
excused  ourselves.  But  when  Fritz's  card  came  up, 
it  was  different.  We  couldn't  guess  whether  or  not 
he  really  knew  who  we  were.  His  face  of  surprise 
showed  us  he  didn't.  At  first  he  was  going  to  be 
secretive ;  but  Fritz  isn't  good  at  fibs,  unless  he's  had 
time  to  prepare  them ;  and  a  plot  he'd  just  been  con- 
cocting with  the  Chancellor  all  came  out.  The  truth 
was,  he'd  taken  me  for  an  actress  with  whom  I'm 
afraid  he'd  been  flirting  in  Abruzzia.  It  seems  he'd 
informed  her  that  there  might  one  day — be  some- 
thing between  his  sister  and  the  Emperor  of  Rhae- 
tia; she  knew,  too,  that  the  real  de  Courcys  were 
Fritz's  cousins,  for  she'd  met  them  when  acting  in 
Calcutta.  Altogether,  for  these  and  other  reasons, 
he  fancied  I  might  be  Miss  Brand,  seeking  revenge 
for  a  slight  by  humiliating  his  sister.  Imagine  how 
he  felt  when  he  saw  me!  And  here's  the  point  where 
Count  von  Markstein  turned  into  my  guardian  angel, 
instead  of  driving  me  from  Eden  with  a  flaming 
sword.  He'd  told  Fritz  that  you  were  searching  for 


250  PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

Mary  de  Courcy  to — ask  her  to  be  the  Empress.  At 
this,  from  being  the  most  miserable,  I  became  the 
happiest  girl  on  earth.  I  forgave  Fritz,  he  forgave 
me,  and — I  at  last  induced  him  to  let  the  plot  be  car- 
ried out  to  the  end.  I  hadn't  doubted  what  that  end 
would  be  till  you  came  into  this  room  and  I  saw  the 
look  in  your  eyes.  It  was  like  a  dagger  of  ice  in  my 
heart.  Tell  me  you  forgive  me  for  everything.  Tell 
me  that,  if  I'd  been  different,  and  content  with  con- 
ventionalities, you  would  not  have  loved  me  more." 

He  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  held  her  as  if  he 
would  never  let  her  go.  "If  you  had  been  different, 
I  would  not  have  loved  you  at  all,"  he  said.  "Yet  if 
things  had  been  different,  I  could  not  have  helped  but 
love  you,  just  the  same.  I  should  have  been  bound 
to  fall  in  love  with  Princess  Sylvia  of  Eltzburg- 
Neuwald  at  first  sight,  as  I  fell  in  love  with  Mary  de 
Courcy." 

"Ah,  but  at  best  you  would  have  fallen  in  love 
with  Sylvia  because  it  was  your  duty.  And  you  fell 
in  love  with  Mary  because  it  was  your  duty  not  to. 
Which  makes  it  so  much  better." 

"It  was  no  question  of  duty,  but  of  fate,"  the  Em- 
peror persisted.  "The  stars  ordained  that  I  should 
love  you." 

"Then  I  wish" — and  Sylvia  laughed  happily,  as 
she  could  afford  to  laugh  now — "that  the  stars  had 
told  me  last  summer.  It  would  have  saved  me  a 
great  dael  of  trouble.  And  yet  I  don't  know,"  she 


PRINCESS  SYLVIA 

added  more  slowly.     "It  has  been  a  wonderful  ad- 
venture.   We  shall  think  of  it  when  we  are  old." 

"We  shall  never  be  old,  for  we  love  each  other," 
said  the  Emperor. 


THE  END. 


,.i£S°y™!:.RN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FAC 


A     000092216 


